


The telepath wears Prada

by Autheane



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: A little bit of angst, Accidental Model Charles, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Don't copy to another site, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, M/M, Photograph Erik, Romance, Slow Burn, dadneto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2019-12-06 21:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18225371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autheane/pseuds/Autheane
Summary: A renowned photograph and a student meet in a coffee shop. These being Erik and Charles, sparks and polite insults can only fly until a proposal is made and a shaky partnership begins.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely my baby sister's fault, who threw pictures and whispered sweet plot bunnies to me... Thanks to her, this fic was born and some fanart is underway. 
> 
> I know nothing of the fashion industry, so forgive me if this seems too far fetched! Also, the title has nothing to do with the movie. :D

Erik parks his car in front of the small building of his studio. 

 

 

He turns off the engine, grabs his phone and his wallet and gets out of his car, locking it with a flick of his fingers, walking the short distance to the building entrance. 

 

 

He always loves to step inside. The building had once been a factory of some kind and besides the basic structure making out every building, this one also has heavy metal beams traversing each floor. Their frames surrounding him sends out powerful pulses to his senses, resonating within him harmoniously, like a deep melody only he could hear the tune of. It always feels soothing and God knows he often needs the peaceful anchor when he has to work with so many idiots. 

 

 

It's a beautiful Monday morning and Angel, the young Latino woman working the front desk, manages to start ruining it with the five little words he hates to hear the most. He likes Angel, she’s very professional, never wasting time with useless chit-chat, always straight to the point. His life would be easier if everyone was like her. Too bad she brings with her the words of doom. 

 

 

“Good morning, Erik. Emma wants to see you.” 

 

 

He groans in answer throwing his head back in frustration. Angel grins at him, she knows how much he hates his little meetings with Emma, especially first thing in the morning. 

 

 

He sighs resignedly and grumbles a “fine” before grabbing the stack of folders she hands him and going straight to the stairs, heading for his office. 

 

 

It’s situated on the fifth and last floor of the small building. He considers this floor his since this is where his studio and office are, as well as a lounge for when he works too late and is too tired to go home, which tends to happen way too often. The rest of the floor consists mainly of a couple of unused rooms. 

 

 

He steps inside the room, puts the folders on his desk and switches on his computer. He hangs his coat on the back of his desk chair and sits, waiting for his computer to start while going absently through one of the folders Angel had given him. It's the few pictures Emma has retained for the Dior commercial. Not bad. He’ll send them through later. 

 

 

He checks his schedule for the day on his computer, he only has a shooting planned in a Café in two hours. Good. 

 

 

He stands up to go make some coffee in the lounge when Emma appears in the doorway of his office. He sighs. 

 

 

“Good morning, Sugar. You know, if you had come to my office right away, you’d already be drinking the coffee you crave so much and it’d have saved the both of us some precious time.” 

 

 

“Yes, but then I wouldn't have the pleasure of knowing you had to climb all the stairs in these heels to see me, now, would I?” 

 

 

“And people wonder why you have no friends…” She enters in his office shaking her head like she would at a difficult child. 

 

 

“I'll let you know I have plenty of friends.” He answers, sitting on the edge of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. 

 

 

“Sweetheart, you know, when you pay them, it doesn’t count.” 

 

 

She sits in one of the chairs in front of his desk, crossing her legs. She looks like she’s holding court. Emma has always had a talent for drama and for annoying the hell out of Erik. But as reluctant as he is to admit it, she is very good at her job. She has an eye for talent, can make most people eat in the palm of her hand or fall at her knees in minutes, can be ruthless when needed which makes her the perfect asset to run Erik’s company smoothly. 

 

 

If Erik had to deal with the interpersonal side of his agency, he would have either killed someone or exploded by now. The people working for him, the models, and the few clients he has to deal with on a regular basis are already too much for him. 

 

 

“Was there a reason for you to grace me with your presence this early in the morning or did you just came to annoy me?” 

 

 

“Angel gave you a few folders when you arrived, one of them contains pictures of several models, you need to take a look at them and select one. It’s not like your ambassador will just fall on your lap.” 

 

 

“Just to annoy me then!” He says straightening up and walking toward the lounge communicating with his office. Emma rolls her eyes at him and follows. 

 

 

“Erik, it’s already been three weeks. Every single model I’ve submitted to you, you’ve rejected. You were supposed to start working with the new model this week but there’s no one in sight! The people at Prada wanted you because you’re the best out there right now, but if you keep this up, they’ll find someone else. It’s not like photographers are not lining up for a chance to work with them.” 

 

 

“And I’ve already told you I want something new, not all the insipid models you’ve been throwing at me for weeks! I want some emotion, some charm, someone you want to stare at and sigh over dreamily, not just a pretty coat rack!” 

 

 

“Erik you’re not selling the model, you’re selling the brand they’re wearing!” 

 

 

“Well, too bad Pinocchio’s not available then!” 

 

 

“Oh, for God's sake! Just look at the damn pictures and pick one! Do it with your eyes closed for all I care, but do it quickly. If you don’t, then I'll choose the most capricious model I can find and force you to work with him. Then you'll hear me laugh all the way from my office the entire time!” 

 

 

She doesn't wait for a response and leaves the room, the clacking of her heels echoing after her. 

 

 

Erik starts the coffee machine and rubs at his forehead. He senses the hands of his watch to check the time, only twenty minutes since he’s arrived. It's going to be a long day…

___

Erik is all settled. He has arrived a bit earlier for the photoshoot at the Café to settle his equipment. It’s a French coffee shop, the kind of place that’s half like a typically Parisian Café, and half pastry shop. Very trendy and popular. A little heaven for food lovers.

 

 

It’s a nice place; huge windowpanes take up a whole wall, letting the outside light filter in the Café. The walls are painted in soft colors and the counters are made out of golden oak. The smell of hot coffee and freshly baked pastries hangs in the air. An inviting and warm atmosphere reigns over the place, it’s exactly the kind of place Erik would enjoy spending some time. 

 

 

Costumers come and go, and only two people are actually sitting at tables with their orders - students judging by the books spread out on the tables in front of them. The staff has judiciously installed them out of his way, to his left so they wouldn't disturb him while he works. 

 

 

He sits at a table with the Café's owner, a man seemingly made of muscles with a weird haircut, handsome if you’re into lumberjacks. He’s the kind if guy you’d expect to saw trees rather than bake small delicious pastries and serve coffee. But that’s not what Erik notices right away in the man. 

 

 

He’s a mutant too. 

 

 

Erik doesn’t know of his abilities or if he has any at all, but his whole skeleton is covered in a metal Erik has never felt before. It’s very heavy but pure, its vibrations are like very low but clear notes echoing against Erik’s senses. He wants to let go of his control and let himself be immersed in their melody. But contrary to popular belief, Erik has some manners and a tight enough leash on his powers to do nothing of the sort. 

 

 

They discuss the man’s, Logan, project for a while. It’s not the kind of project he takes much part in anymore, he’s just been accepting this kind of offers lately just to piss Emma off as a payback for pestering him everyday with the new ambassador he had to find. He’d find the perfect guy all on his own, thank you very much. 

 

 

Logan tells him a bit about his shop and how he’s publishing his own recipe book for his pastry creations. When Erik asks him if he has any ideas or suggestions about how he wants the food to be displayed, Logan just tells him: 

 

 

“Look, I’ve hired you specifically because I didn’t want to have to deal with all that. Do whatever the hell you want with them, you’re a talented photographer so I trust your eye. Just make sure each of them scream “I’m fucking delicious, come and bake me!” Ask the staff for whatever you need, they’ve been briefed and when you’re done, come to find me.” With that, he turns tails and retreats to his office. 

 

 

Erik can definitely deal with that. It has the advantage of being more relaxing than to work with exigent creators or pretentious models. Logan’s demands are simple and straightforward, he likes that. 

 

 

He starts to sort through the list of pastries he has to work with, observing them, reading the names and descriptions to choose the best way to showcase them and makes a few notes on his notebook on each ones. 

 

 

He takes the first one – a Paris Brest 1 , made of choux pastry and praline cream- puts it on the little table set aside for his shoot and asks for a few things to arrange around it to make it more appealing than it already is. 

 

 

He gets to work, adjusting his camera first and starts to take a few shots when his eye catches on a little movement to his left. One of the students, a young man with short brown hair, is playing with his pen, making it twirl between his fingers absently. Erik shakes his head then turns back to his work making a few more adjustments before taking a few other shots. 

 

 

When he’s satisfied with this one, he moves on to the next, and then the next. He works for twenty minutes or so like this, his concentration wavering regularly to settle on the young student, looking at a hand threading through hair, at absent fingers playing with a full bottom lip, at a tongue darting out to lick sensuously at an entrancing mouth. He’s fascinating, and beautiful. Not in a I’m-cut-out-of-marble-but-my-face-reflects-nothing kind of way but full of charm and sensuality. Erik has to forcibly stop himself from turning his camera in the direction of the man and capture one of his apparently many fidgeting habits to get back to his work. 

 

 

The more this little distraction goes on, the more annoyed Erik gets. Couldn’t this guy stay still for one fucking minute and just stop driving Erik crazy?! 

 

 

When he’s working on the religieuse au chocolat 2 \- another one made of two balls of choux pastry, a little one on top of another bigger one, filled with chocolate cream and covered with chocolate fondant- the man moves yet again. He puts his pen in his mouth to start typing on his cellphone, a little smile lighting up his features. 

 

 

Erik’s eyes are glued to the pen and the very red and plump lips holding it. And just when Erik is about to turn back to his camera, the guy makes the pen twirl in his mouth with his apparently very skillful tongue. Erik’s cock twitches in his pants and then something snaps in his head. 

 

 

In a few strides, he’s right in front of the man’s table who looks up at him with big beautiful eyes, so vividly blue and expressive. Erik is stunned for a moment, lost in these two orbs. 

 

 

“Huh… Can I help you?” Asks the man in a very pleasant British accent. Like he needed to be more attractive to Erik. 

 

 

“Yes, actually. As you can see, I’m trying to work here and all your moving around isn’t helping my creative process. So, take all your stuff and go work somewhere else.” 

 

 

The man raises an eyebrow, his expression going from pleasantly confused to coldly disbelieving. 

 

 

“OK… No. Sorry but I can’t do that. Tell your creative process to learn to be polite and maybe next time it’ll be more successful.” 

 

 

The man’s eyes flash with a mix of disbelief and anger and then he gets back to his books, completely dismissing Erik. 

 

 

Erik is dumbfounded, rooted on the spot. Not only the guy just insulted him but he did it so very politely. Erik isn’t used to get no for an answer and especially not in such a way. He has just basically been told to fuck off with flowers. That’s a good thing the guy doesn’t have guns instead of eyes or he would have dropped dead in seconds. 

 

 

Erik has to admit that he’s a little bit turned on right now. 

 

 

He gets back to his camera and forces himself to concentrate on his work, the kid’s be damned. But his treacherous mind is only halfway immersed in it, his work more mechanical than an actual thought process. 

 

 

He keeps glancing at the young man, even when he’s not moving, and observing him for a few seconds each time, detailing each of his features, getting lost in his contemplation and only seeing potential. 

 

 

And then he starts to think of how to best bring out each feature. 

 

 

Thick black framed glasses to highlight the big blue eyes; a close up shot of this face playing with saturation a bit, to accentuate the blue of his eyes and the red of his lips; a white dress shirt with a few buttons left undone and sleeves rolled up to the elbows to tease a bit of creamy chest and showcase strong forearms covered in freckles; tight pants to make the strong muscled thighs stand out… 

 

 

Erik does his best to finish his photoshoot and not fuck it up. Once he’s done, he starts packing up his equipment while glancing at the young man. He takes out his phone halfway through and sends a text to Emma. 

 

 

I found him. 

 

 

He puts his phone back in his pocket and turns to the guy. He feels his phone starting to vibrate not thirty seconds later. Of course Emma would call. Well, he’ll call her back later. Right now, he has something more important to do. 

 

 

He approaches the man slowly, not wanting to startle him. The man looks up at him sighing. 

 

 

“Yes?” He asks. No, demands exasperatedly. 

 

 

“Listen, I know you probably don’t have much time on your hands with your studies and all but I also know what the student life is like so, I was wondering if you’d be interested in making quick cash easily?” 

 

 

This time, both of the young man’s eyebrows climb and seem to try to fuse with his hairline. 

 

 

“Do I look like a prostitute to you?” 

 

 

Erik scrambles to find something to say, cringing internally realizing how he had phrased his question. Face-palming is very tempting right now. 

 

 

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant! I just meant that… I mean… You know…” Erik stops and starts again “I actually very rarely take pictures of pastries, my domain is more often than not models and I just wanted to know if you’d be interested in working with me. You’d be trying out various outfits, posing a little, it’d be a very simple and easy way to make some cash for you.” 

 

 

He waits expectantly for the man’s answer, surprised at how hopeful he is for him to accept. 

 

 

“So first, you’re rude to me, then insulting and now you want to play dress up with me? Thank you very much but I think I’ll pass. Seeing our very short but eventful history, if I take you up on your offer, I’ll probably end up in porn or some snuff movie or something.” 

 

 

He starts to close his books and stuffs them in his satchel. 

 

 

Erik takes a deep breath. He had to convince him. 

 

 

He takes out one of his business cards from his wallet and holds it out to the man. 

 

 

“We’re definitely not that kind of place. Listen, just think about it and call if you change your mind, I really like your face and I think it would be a shame to not let the rest of the world enjoy it too.” 

 

 

The man snorts, shaking his head. He grabs the card and tells him sarcastically: 

 

 

“You sure know how to sweet talk people, I really envy your friends.” 

 

 

“Is there a problem here?” 

 

 

It’s Logan. How did Erik not notice a huge mass of metal approaching them from behind?! He sounds and looks ready to snap Erik’s spine in two and Erik takes a breath to answer him when the young man beats him to it. 

 

 

“It’s OK Logan. I’m heading home anyway. Don’t forget Friday’s dinner or Raven will skin you alive and we both know how long that would take.” He says with a fond smile. 

 

 

Logan snorts then quickly looks from Erik to the young man, some unspoken question passing between the two of them. The young man shakes his head, his smile growing even more fond if possible, then walks to Logan, kisses his cheek mumbling a soft thanks. 

 

 

“Anytime Bub, you know that. Hug Raven for me.” 

 

 

“Will do, see you Logan.” 

 

 

“See you Charles.” 

 

 

Erik watches the young man, Charles, go and then turns back to Logan. He doesn’t know what’s between these two but they’re definitely very close. Erik’s not sure he appreciates Logan all that much anymore. 

 

 

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder. Logan grins at him like he wants to murder him in the slowest way possible. Erik raises his eyebrows and stands his ground, not impressed in the slightest. Logan probably looks scary to most people but a flick of his wrist and he could make the guy look like a Picasso. 

 

 

“I see you’re done with the pictures, that’s good. Let’s go over your work quickly then we’ll have a little chat.” 

 

 

With that he let’s go of Erik’s shoulder and walks in the direction of his office in the back of the Café. Erik grabs his camera and his laptop and follows after him sighing deeply. 

 

 

He knew it would be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 : [this is a Paris-Brest](https://www.academiedugout.fr/images/19005/948-580/paris-brest-2852.jpg?poix=50&poiy=50=) Back  
> 2 : [this is a Religieuse au chocolat](https://www.carlmarletti.com/medias/800x1200/carlmarletti_fc0eed94475aed5a4e61ba82b37db47b_la-religieuse-au-chocolat.jpg=) Back
> 
> Don't hesitate to share your thoughts on [Tumblr](http://autheane.tumblr.com/) or on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Autheane) or even here! Feedback is always appreciated! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Charles comes home, hanging up his coat in the entryway closet, still reeling from his brief but memorable encounter with the photograph. He still couldn't believe the guy's nerve. 

He shakes his head. 

Such a shame, the man was gorgeous. Charles had noticed him walking in Logan's café right away with his confident stride, perfect face and focused mind. Charles had kept glancing his way to observe him while he was working, completely fascinated both by the way he moved his hands on his camera, long fingers making a few adjustments here and there, and by his mind, so neat, organized and straightforward. The occasional perfect view of his butt and the small bursts of desire coming from him had been a sweet bonus. 

He enters in the kitchen locking the thoughts away, no need to dwell on the past. This way lies madness. 

"Hello Raven." 

She's sitting at the table, a steaming mug in front of her and her phone in hand. She looks up and smiles at him then almost instantly, her smile falls and she frowns. 

"What's wrong?" She asks, concern radiating from her. 

The problem when you have a shapeshifter sister, it's that nothing gets past her. Raven is a very observant and perceptive young woman. Charles doesn't know if it's part of her mutation or a cause of it, since she can change into anybody in the spans of seconds with only a quick glance. 

"Nothing, don’t worry, just a rude guy at Logan’s" 

"The tea should still be hot if you want some. The guy is still breathing?" She asks him with a knowing smile. Charles can't help but mirror it. 

He turns and takes a mug in the cupboard over the sink and pours himself some tea. 

"Logan was talking to him when I left, but seeing the many, all more gruesome than the next, ways he was imagining torturing the man, I'm not sure that's still the case." 

"Damn, that's a shame I missed this." 

He sits in front of her, shaking his head fondly and takes a sip of his tea. 

"You've always liked Logan's antics far too much, that's pretty disturbing. By the way, he sends you a kiss. How was class today?" 

"Come on, he's a badass and it's always fun to see the bastards squirm." She tells him grinning "As usual, boring to death. Oh! By the way, we'll have a study group on Thursday. Kurt will be gone by then so I told my group to come here for the afternoon so we'll probably have company for dinner. Kitty will probably pass the night." 

"Thanks for telling me. I have classes until 4 PM, I'll probably go to Logan’s for a bit afterwards but I'll be home for dinner. Don't hesitate to call if you need any help though." He tells her. She smiles rolling her eyes at him. 

"I'm sure we'll be alright for a few hours on our own. Don’t worry." 

He lifts his hands in surrender. 

"I'm just throwing the offer. Anyway, I'll go to my room, I have a paper I want to finish before tomorrow." 

"Ok." 

He refills his mug, retrieves his satchel and goes up to his room. 

He puts his mug on his nightstand, drops his bag on the bed and flops down next to it, just taking a few moments to breathe and relax. After a few minutes, he sits up, grabs his bag and nestles in his cushions. If he's going to finish his paper, he might as well be comfortable doing so. 

He gets his laptop from his satchel and a little piece of paper falls on his lap. It's the photograph's business card. He grabs it to take a closer look at it. 

Erik Lehnsherr... Ah, a fellow European? 

There's only the photograph's name, an address, a phone number and a website address on the card. 

Charles has always been bad with curiosity, he could never resist it. He wakes his laptop up and opens Chrome quickly typing the address up. 

He reads the very short biography about the man. Hmm... Nothing very interesting there, it's mostly his cursus. He only learns that the man is 31 and owns his company and studio. He clicks on the gallery and scrolls down the photographs. 

He can't deny that the man is talented. Very talented even. 

Most shots are in black and white, the few that aren't, are not very saturated. All very tasteful and artistic. Focused on the models, each highlighting a particular feature or part of the body, displaying various outfits from different angles or poses. Nothing too pompous or too grand. Just simple tasteful pictures showcasing beauty. 

The more Charles looks at the photos, the more he thinks the guy had probably lost it or was completely drunk when he came to him with his ridiculous proposition. 

Every model is superb, real living pieces of art. Each more beautiful than the next and apparently carved from marble judging by the few abs peeking out from open shirts. And this guy wants to work with Charles? 

No way. 

It was either a tasteless prank or he had the intention of sinking his company. 

Charles is realistic. He's not ugly, but he's far from the fashion model with the square jaw, smoldering look and stunning body. And let's not even talk about his ridiculous height. 

Maybe some kind of fraud? Afterall, the man was taking pictures of pastries. He was perhaps ruined, looking for young unsuspecting people from whom he could finagle some money? 

If you were a bit informed, it wasn't difficult to know the heir of the Xavier fortune hung around the shop of one of the last living members of his family. 

Well, Google was his friend! 

He opens a new tab and types the photograph's name in the search bar. 

Lots of results come out, and according to most, the man is everything but ruined. He probably even lives a life very far from want judging by the number of brands he's already worked with and those fighting for a chance to work with him. 

Wow… 

Charles remains staring at his screen without really knowing what to think. What the Hell had gone through that guy's head?! 

Maybe he was on drugs. 

Yes, that was probably it. It would explain a lot actually. 

Charles clicks on the results by pictures, and among all the model's shots, there are a few of the photograph himself. 

He really is handsome. He could probably take pictures of himself in a mirror and make another fortune selling them. Most of the models he works with don't even come close to his beauty. None of them have the same sharp features, these piercing steely blue eyes and this shoulder-waist ratio totally unfair for the rest of the male sex. 

Charles sighs and puts his laptop aside. 

A real shame. 

He gets up and walks to the ensuite bathroom to relieve himself. He washes his hands when he's done before walking back in his bedroom. He stops in his tracks when he sees Raven lying on her front on his bed, browsing Lehnsherr's website. 

"Raven, how many times do I have to tell you to not snoop through my stuff? You're not eight anymore." 

She doesn't even have the decency to stop looking through the page or look sorry. 

"I didn't come to snoop, I came to ask you what you wanted for dinner. The laptop was open, in plain view. I'm merely observing. Who's the guy?" 

Charles rubs his forehead, trusts his sister to reverse a situation to her advantage. He sighs. 

"The asshole at Logan's" 

"Oooh, well, knowing you, that's an asshole you'd gladly sink your teeth into. Or... Something else." 

She grins at him and he groans, siting heavily on the edge of his bed. He covers his face with his hands. 

"And that's definitely not something I want to hear coming from my 17 years old sister's mouth." 

She grins even more, her yellow eyes sparkling with mirth. 

"Come on Charles, don't be an old stuck up fart. You know I'm right anyway. What's with the stalking anyway if he's an ass?" 

Charles flops back on his bed, throwing his arms over his head. 

" I was mostly curious as to why he would ask me to model for him. That's so ridiculous..." 

"What?" She sits up straighter suddenly, as if all wound up. She looks down at him with round eyes and gaping. 

"He first came to me to tell me to fuck off somewhere else because I was distracting him, then came back telling me he liked my face and wanted to share it with the world or something just as idiotic. I said no and left." 

She snorts. 

"What?" He asks her. She grins mockingly down at him before saying: 

"You've finally found someone with worse pick-up lines than you! Rejoice!" She laughs. 

"Oh, shut up." He mumbles throwing his arms over his face. 

"So, let me get this straight. The guy's apparently internationally famous, he wants to work with you, you're obviously attracted to him and you've turned him down. Am I forgetting something?" She asks poking him in the ribs. 

"Yes, you forgot the ass part." He answers swatting at her hand. When he sees and feels glee lighting up her face and mind, he realizes his poor choice of words. 

"Don't!" He says pointing a finger at her. 

"OK, OK ! Well, you're an ass sometimes too and that doesn't mean I don't love you. Are you going to call him?" She asks looking down at him fondly. 

"No, absolutely not." 

"What?! Why? Charles! You can't pass up such an opportunity!" She exclaims, swatting at his chest. 

"Ow!! Would you stop hitting me! Unlike you, my natural color isn't blue. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm studying genetics and biology, not trying to make it to the most popular fashion show of the world and it's not like I’m model material anyway! Besides, I don't have the time for that nor the need for the money." 

"But Chaaaaarles!" She says in the same plaintive tone she used when she was a kid and wanted him to play with her. 

"Raveeeeeen, still no!" He answers, mimicking her tone. 

"Call him at least! If you don't want to work with him, then ask him on a date. If you don't call him anyway, I will." She says defiantly. She looks down at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes and Charles is instantly wary. 

"You will do no such thing." 

She only grins at him, her white teeth in stark contrast with the blue of her skin, before grabbing something next to him and bolting from his bed. Her scales ripple and he watches as she becomes a perfect replica of himself. 

His wariness fades away for a moment, his amazement at any display of her powers getting the upper hand. As annoying as she can be, his baby sister is stunning. 

She takes her phone from her pocket, or is that considered his since she's basically himself? He shakes his head to chase the thought away. She's looking at the business card she grabbed and types on her phone at the same time. 

"Raven, please don't." He says sitting up. 

"Come on. It's just a little phone call. You get to be enlightened on this proposition of his and I get to have a little fun. You of all people know we don't have much occasion for it around here. Please?" 

Charles sighs. How can he possibly resist when she throws such arguments at him, with her kicked puppy face. 

“Alright, but just this time and you’re not calling again if you don’t get him on the line.” 

“ Yes !” She shouts throwing his fist in the air. She strides up to him and bends down to kiss his cheek. It will never not be weird to be kissed by himself. 

She sits next to him on the bed and presses call then the speaker button so they can both hear the conversation. The rings of the phone resonate in the room. After the third one, a gruff voice answers. 

“Lehnsherr.” 

Charles and Raven look at each other with round eyes, neither of them were expecting the man to answer in person. Raven catches herself quickly to talk to the photograph. 

“Good afternoon, this is Charles Xavier, we met earlier today at Logan’s Cafe.” 

“ Oh yes, did you think about my proposition?” the man asks. Why waste time over pleasantries, Charles thinks wryly. 

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s only after your butt… She sends Charles way. Charles just snorts quietly. 

“A little, yes. But could you be so kind as to give me more details, please? You haven’t been very clear when we met.” 

“It’s not that complicated. For now, I’d just like you to come to my studio, you’d try a few things on, see what works and take a few pictures, try out a few poses. And from there, depending on how it goes for us both, we work some more together or we don’t. See, not hard to understand.” 

I told you he was an ass. Charles sends Raven. 

“OK, when and where ?” 

What?! Raven we said one phone call only! 

She just waves dismissively at him. Charles is dumbfounded. He tries to grab the phone from Raven but she’s faster than him. She twists out of his grasp and somewhat manages to pin him to the bed while holding both his hands down with only one of hers, to Charles’ utter humiliation. 

“If tomorrow works for you, I have the afternoon free from 2pm. Just come to the address on the card I gave you.” Lehnsherr is saying. 

“I have class until 4 pm, I can be there by 4:30.” 

“Perfect, I’ll schedule you in. See you then.” And with that he hangs up. 

Raven releases him, putting her phone back in her pocket. He massages his wrists, she has so much strength, he tends to forget it. 

“What do you not understand in I have no interest of working with the guy exactly ?” He asks her, standing up, one of his hand on his hip. 

“ You’re going. If you don’t, I’ll go to the appointment as you and we both know how embarrassing I could make it for you.” She says pointing him with her finger as if she was scolding a child. 

“No one is going.” He tells her trying to sound firm. 

“Charles, you’ve heard him, it’s just a test run. Go, if you don’t like it, you never go back. But you can’t pass up such an opportunity! This is a once in a lifetime kind of deal and only to very few people. How many persons would give everything they have to get such a chance? Do it just to piss the guy off saying no more afterwards, do it for the fun of it, I don’t know! Besides, I know you. If you don’t go, you’ll keep wondering what if. So, you will go.” 

“Are you quite done yet? I’ll go, OK ? But if this turns out to be a horrible, traumatic experience, you’ll have to do whatever I ask of you for the next month without complaining, deal?” He tells her, exasperated that she was probably right. 

“Everything?” 

He grins at her, and answers in a satisfied tone, holding out his hand. 

“Everything.” 

She sighs dramatically. 

“All right, deal but you better tell me all about the meeting when you get home.” 

She walks to him and they shake hands, Raven still looking like him. 

___

Charles was in a pretty jovial mood when he arrived in front of the building of the studio. The project he and Hank were working on was coming along nicely. The results so far were very promising. 

The building resembles the artist, cold and sharp. It looks old, unlike the man but at the same time, very design and modern thanks to the huge glass walls and metal supports. 

Charles walks in the reception hall. It’s a large room, very bright and airy, decorated with three huge black and white photographs on the back wall facing the entrance. They look like someone cropped the original pictures to accentuate some parts of the model's bodies, beautiful. 

At the center of the room, there's a large round desk at which a pretty young woman with tanned skin and black hair is busy. She's on the phone and an intense feeling of exasperation is coming from her. 

Charles waits patiently until she hangs up to talk to her, giving her his most charming smile. 

"Hello, I have an appointment at 4:30, and I have no idea where I’m supposed to go or what I’m supposed to do. Could you be an angel and give me a few pointers please?" He asks her smiling. His smile becomes even larger when he feels her surprise and amusement that he used her name without even knowing it, with a quick impression of deployed wings and freedom. 

"That’s a fitting name." He tells her looking pointedly at the part of her tattoos he can see on her arms. Beautiful dragonfly-like wings imprinted on her skin, imagining what they looked like in flight. 

Her eyes grow bigger and her mind darken with a veil of mistrust. When she opens her mouth to ask him how he knew, he just taps at his temple twice quickly. 

"I’m a telepath. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable." 

She visibly relaxes and smiles at him again, a bit more warmly than the first time. 

"No harm done, I was just a bit surprised. It’s always nice to meet another fellow mutant and another telepath at that." 

"Oh... So, I’m not the first telepath you meet, this is such devastating news..." He tells her with a mocking pout. She snorts. 

"If you're lucky, you'll be soon meeting her too. Who are you meeting with then, Mister… ?" 

"Charles Xavier. It seems that I forgot my manners at home today, sorry about that." 

"It’s alright, believe me, I’m used to way worse manners than yours. Is this a French name?" She wonders genuinely curious. 

"Yes, it is." 

"Does that mean you speak French?" She asks him excitedly. 

He chuckles. People’s reactions to French were always entertaining. They seemed to be fascinated with the language. He knew it was considered one of the most romantic language, and even sometimes sexy, but it would always be just a regular language to him. Perhaps because he was too used to it? 

"Oui, je le parle couramment." 

And there it is, a wave of arousal and glee coming from Angel. She's looking at him a bit dreamily for a moment, her chin resting on her hand, her elbow on the edge of the desk, before she catches herself. 

"Wow... So, hmm, who are you here to meet?" 

"Oh, yes. The appointment. Huh, Mr. Lehnsherr, for a test shooting." 

Angel looks surprised for a moment. 

"A test?" 

"Yes, a test. Well, at least that’s what he told me." He answers a bit unsure now. 

He starts to consider the idea of the prank all over again when faced with Angel’s astonishment. He knew he didn’t look the part, he should never have listened to Raven. 

"Ok, wait a minute." 

She grabs the phone and presses a few buttons and waits smiling at him. Curiosity radiating from her. 

"Erik, Charles Xavier is here for the test shooting, should I send him to you or to Emma first?" 

Charles is so anxious because of Angel’s reaction that he decides to plunge a little farther in her mind. And then he smiles, reassured. 

She’s a very clever woman, Raven would love her. She picks her words very carefully to gauge if Charles is here for something trivial or important and is already considering who she can talk to later to get more information about this appointment. Her initial surprise not so much about Charles' look but more about the fact that Lehnsherr never did test shootings. 

She hangs up the phone without saying another word and gets up. 

"Come with me, I’ll lead you to the studio." 

"Thank you very much."  

She starts walking to the back of the room on the right where the stairs are situated. He follows after her. After the third floor climbed in silence, Charles has to say: 

"I hope you don’t have to escort all the people coming and going in the building, it must be exhausting with no elevator." 

Angel let’s out a little laugh. 

"There is actually one, but we’ve all taken the habit of not using it. See, when your boss has a temper such as Lehnsherr’s, you can find yourself in strange situations.” 

"Oh, you mean he’s an ass, I’ve noticed." He tells her wryly. She grins conspiratorially at him. 

"Your words, not mines. He’s not a bad guy actually, but he tends to be very childish sometimes and the elevator is his favorite toy. He'd either trap us in for a few minutes by fusing the doors, or make the elevator go back up when we want to go down, stop between floors, stuff like that." 

Charles frowns wondering how he did all this. His confusion must show on his face because she adds. 

"Oh, you didn’t know, he’s a mutant too. He can control magnetic fields and so, metals. We’re an exclusively mutant company actually, and in Erik’s defense, we all tend to use our powers in childish ways from time to time. Mostly to prank each other. And here we are." 

She stops in front of a plain grey door and lifts her hand to knock on the frame, when this one opens seemingly by itself on a decently sized office. 

Erik is sitting behind his desk, he stands up when they come in, his eyes boring holes through Angel who pretends not to notice. 

Charles is struck anew by how gorgeous the man is; his eyes the color of a stormy sky, the sharp lines of his jaw, and his straight nose. He's dressed in dark fitting jeans with a black turtleneck, tight fitting enough to be able to discern the thin but muscled frame of the man underneath and he’s strangely barefoot. 

Well, it’s his office afterall… 

Charles can't get his eyes off of his gaze, intense and fixed on Angel, like trying to make her combust with the force of his dark look alone. It sends shivers down Charles' spine. 

"Angel, what are you doing here?" He asks coldly. 

"Emma asked me to give you these." She answers him, completely unfazed by Lehnsherr's attitude, handing him a stack of folders. 

Charles can feel Erik’s skepticism and annoyance coming from his mind. He takes the files from her and drops them unceremoniously on his desk without even a glance before turning his attention fully to Charles and oh, Charles definitely likes it. 

His eyes rove over him, seemingly observing every detail of his face, then his body, stopping here and there on the way down to his shoes before looking back up to his eyes once again. 

Charles is hit with a wave of satisfaction, appreciation and want so clear and sweet, he has to conscientiously strengthen his mental shields to not be tempted to dive into the depth of his mind and not want to drop his pants every five minutes they'll have to work together. 

Angel clears her throat, Charles had completely forgotten her, Lehnsherr's presence outshining every other. She says in a quiet voice: 

"I’ll let you two work then." 

Charles sends her a little thanks mentally, sparing a glance at her and seeing her eyes sweep from him to Lehnsherr before leaving the room. 

Lehnsherr is still looking intently at Charles and Charles starts to feel uncomfortable. He has to fight the urge to fidget in place like a kid under his scrutinizing look. 

"So..." Charles starts to say before being cut off. 

"This is a terrible look on you." Erik tells him pointing to his clothes. And Charles goes from curious and a bit uncomfortable to offended in two seconds. It's amazing how just one man has the ability to drive Charles mad in such a short period of time. 

He looks down at his clothes and frowns. He has put on simple dark grey pressed pants with a baby blue button-down shirt and a thick light grey jacket over it. 

"What’s wrong with my clothes?" he asks indignantly. 

"Well, first off all you’re not 80 as your look might suggest; secondly, all these are two large for you. You look like a kid who stole his father’s clothes. Well, grandfather in your case." 

Charles crosses his arms over his chest and takes a deep breath. Patience is mother of virtue. 

"Well, that’s good we’re not here for MY clothes then! Dazzle me with your wisdom! O, Great Chaman of fashion!" Charles proclaims, bowing in front of the man. 

To Charles’ surprise, when he straightens up, instead of the scowl he's expecting to see on the man's face, he's graced with a small smile. 

Well, that's definitely a good look on him. 

"Get ready to be blinded then, little Miscreant." 

Charles is very possibly gaping. 

He watches Lehnsherr jerk his head on the side in a small "follow me" motion and walk past him. Charles shakes his head a bit baffled, following after the man. 

The little shit. 

If nothing came out of this, Raven was sure to be very entertained with his tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon, the photoshoot :) 
> 
> Yes, I've taken the liberty to give Charles French roots, I just couldn't resist the temptation considering his name and my being French! Well, the main purpose of fanfiction IS to have fun afterall. xD
> 
> Don't hesitate to share your thoughts on [Tumblr](http://autheane.tumblr.com/) or on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Autheane) or even here! Feedback is always appreciated! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking forever in updating this fic but, life is a bitch! In the meantime, enjoy this slightly longer chapter. :)

Erik leads Charles to his studio a bit farther than his office down the hall. 

He's been pleasantly surprised so far. He hadn’t actually been expecting Charles to call after their catastrophic first encounter and was half expecting him not to show up today. Now he just hopes today’s session will go well, it would mean working with someone interesting for once and getting Emma off his back. 

Erik switches the lights on in what he calls the closet. It’s not actually one, it's an area almost fully open to the studio’s space with only a small portion walled off where a bathroom is. He uses this space to store the clothes he has to work with, for the models to change, for them to get ready for a shoot and it’s a pretty decent size too, he just likes to call it that way. 

He turns to Charles and takes a moment to look at him. The man is looking everywhere around him completely lost in his observation of the studio. His expression so open in this instant, it makes him look even younger. 

Erik clears his throat to get his attention and only when Charles' eyes snap to him does he start to talk. 

"Alright, first of all, how comfortable are you with nudity?" He asks. Charles eyes go wide. 

"I beg your pardon?" He says, his British accent stronger than any of the times he heard Charles speak so far. Erik wants to smile. 

"How comfortable are you with nudity?" He repeats. If possible, Charles' frown intensifies and he crosses his arms over his chest. 

"Don’t tell me that I actually came all the way here for some kind of porn shooting in the end?" 

"What?! No, of course not! I just need to know what your limits are. Are you comfortable with showing off your chest? Body in general? Keeping in mind I will never take a picture of you fully naked. As I told you when we first met, we’re not that kind of company and I'm definitely not that kind of photographer. Do you mind having people you don’t know touch you? That would be for make-up, alterations to the clothes, for your hair, etc... I need you to tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable at all so we can both avoid awkward situations." He explains. He's worked with his fair share of models in his carrier so far to know people had many grey areas or no-go zones and to never cross either of them, it never ended well. 

"Hmm, I think I’d be ok with my chest showing for now, not at all if possible. At least for today. I have no problem with people touching me as long as they warn me beforehand. I do have a question though." 

Erik makes a go ahead gesture with his hand. 

"Are you aware that I’m no model material at all? I mean…" He looks down at himself and makes a vague just look at me motion. 

"Considering your tastes in clothes, I wouldn’t trust your judgment even if you were the last person on Earth so, you’ll just have to trust mine." Erik answers him with a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. Charles rolls his eyes and asks: 

"OK Mr. I'm-better-than-anyone-else, where do we start then?" 

"You can start by putting your stuff over there." Erik answers and makes the chair in the corner shake with a flick of his wrist. 

He watches Charles’ reaction closely. He doesn't mind working with humans nowadays, but mutant haters, he can’t take. So, he'd better make sure Charles isn't one of them right from the start. 

Charles’ eyes grow wide watching the chair and a smile stretches his lips. 

"Angel mentioned you were a mutant, this is amazing." He tells him seemingly genuine. 

Not a hater then. Good. Erik shrugs. 

"It’s just a simple trick." And then he whistles. 

A poof of sulfur smoke later and Azazel is standing next to him. Charles looks startled for a moment and then stares at Azazel in open amazement. 

Has the man never met a mutant in his life at all? Both he and Azazel exchange quick looks, probably wondering the same thing. 

"This is Azazel. He’s one of my direct assistant and is in charge of all the clothing department. Azazel, this is Charles." 

Charles nods at Azazel while this one looks at him suggestively up and down. 

"So, this is him then… I see why you were so obsessed. You did always have a th…" Azazel starts, smirking when Erik cuts him off clapping his hands loudly. 

"Ok! We’re going casual today since this is just a test run. Azazel! A shirt or two, a turtleneck and a few simple t-shirts should do for today. Oh, and fitting jeans too. Charles, you can change in the bathroom behind you. If everything goes well for the both of us today, Azazel will take your measurements for next time. I’ll get my equipment ready while you change." 

Erik turns around to the sound of Azazel teleporting to his atelier and starts to look around his studio, wondering whether to close the curtains and use artificial light or use the natural light today. The sky is a bit cloudy, but it makes the light and shadows filtering in the studio interesting. 

He'll work with natural light today and see how it goes. 

He opens fully all the curtains with his powers, the windows so high it's easier this way rather than having to climb on a ladder or something. Once it’s done, he summons his equipment from their place on the desk next to the studio’s entrance to him. He settles everything quickly, some of it like his tripod, he puts on the side in case he needs it. He rarely does but you never know. Then he floats his camera to his hands and starts to make a few adjustments. 

He startles when Charles' voice resonates right next to him. 

"This is pretty handy. Do you always use your powers this way? Isn’t it risky for your camera, won’t it damage it?" He asks him. 

"I don’t use it all the time, no. It just happens. I don’t conscientiously have to think about it. It’s like using your arm, you don’t actually think of grasping something, you just do. That’s the same with my powers. As for my camera, no, it’s not risky. Maybe if I used an old camera, the magnetic fields could damage the pellicle, but I’m not actually sure about that." Erik answers him while finishing with the last adjustments. 

"I see, it's kind of like having a sixth sense or another limb then." Charles says thoughtfully. 

"It is. Alright, everything's ready. We can start." 

He turns to Charles and stops in his tracks, looking at him from head to toe. Azazel has dressed him in dark blue fitting jeans and a black turtleneck, not too close to his body but not too large either. His hair is styled back messily, as if Charles had kept threading his hand through it. It’s perfect. He's perfect. 

He clears his throat. 

"That’s better. OK, go stand right next to this wall. Just relax and try to act natural and everything will be fine." 

Charles strides to the wall, then turns to him. 

"What’s considered acting natural? Do I have to take rubbish poses or do I just stand there like an idiot?" He asks a bit cheekily. 

" Just lean against the wall like you're waiting for someone, for starters." 

Charles obeys a bit stiffly, clearly not at ease. He closes his eyes for an instant, take a deep breath and then he’s leaning against the wall and looks back at Erik questioningly and it's like all tension has drained away from him. He looks perfectly comfortable. It looks good. 

"Perfect!" 

He takes the first shot. 

"Look up a little, now turn your face a bit on your left. Yes, just like that." 

Erik clicks on his camera and gets a bit closer. Erik is surprised how Charles is naturally good at playing nonchalant. 

"OK, you're doing great. You can move as you would if you were actually waiting. Look around, change position from time to time… Don't pay any attention to me, I'll work with what you give me, just keep in mind it's a simple game of pretending." Erik tells him while adjusting his camera and taking a few other pictures. 

Charles snorts, looking down at the floor, a little smile playing on his beautiful lips and Erik hastens to capture this genuine expression on the young man’s face. He looks so innocent and carefree in this instant, like a kid with no idea of what the word trouble could mean. 

He lifts up his head a little, his face taking on a thoughtful air. He turns his body a bit toward Erik and presses his hand against the wall. 

"I feel so ridiculous." He shakes his head a little. 

Erik takes another picture. 

"You just need to get used to it." Erik answers him circling around him and snapping shots. Charles lets out a little laugh. 

"To being ridiculous?" He retorts smirking. Erik rolls his eyes. 

"Are you always going to turn everything I say the wrong way?" 

Charles’ smile grows even bigger, the little shit is totally enjoying driving Erik up the wall. 

"It’s not my fault you can’t use your words properly." 

Erik shakes his head, taking a picture of the very satisfied expression on the young man’s face, not able to hold back the little smile tugging at his lips. At least it’s refreshing to have someone who doesn’t fall at his feet everytime he opens his mouth. 

"Alright, let’s get you into something else. Come with me." 

Erik walks to the closet where Azazel hanged the few items he has selected for the shoot. He scans through them and picks up a plain black button down shirt. He turns around and hands it to Charles. 

"Put this on." 

Charles takes the shirt from him and deposits it on the table next to him. He shakes his head a little, grasping the bottom of the turtleneck to pull it off. 

"Your manners are abysmal. This is unbelievable." Charles tells him, his words muffled by the fabric of the turtleneck. 

Erik has nothing to say to that, too busy staring at Charles creamy chest dusted in caramel freckles being exposed in front of him. Charles is surprisingly fit, abs and pectoral muscles shifting under skin at the slightest of Charles‘ moves. Erik wouldn’t have guessed looking at him when he first met him, his body hidden under too many layers of too large clothing. 

Maybe next time they can work on more fitting clothes. A tank top perhaps… 

Charles holds out the turtleneck for Erik to take and grasps the shirt to slip it on while Erik busies himself with putting the item of clothing back on its hanger. Once Charles is done buttoning up the shirt he looks at Erik and stretches his arms on his sides. 

"Do I have the approval of the Great Shaman?" He asks with a small quirk of his lips. 

"You’ll do." Erik answers turning around to stride back to the wall to continue the shooting. 

Charles follows him mumbling a loud enough "abysmal" for Erik to hear. He gets back next to the wall, simply standing perpendicular to it. 

Erik moves around him, taking a few shots when he finds a particular angle interesting. Charles doesn’t move, just watches him moving around, expression serious and unreadable. 

The sun breaks through the clouds just for a moment, bathing Charles face and shoulders in sunlight, making him reflexively frown against the light in his eyes and, oh... Erik could be damned for such a look, so intense and fierce suddenly. It’s amazing how a simple frown can transform such an innocent and boyish face into one years older, with baggage weighing it down. 

Erik clicks and steps closer, wanting to capture more details on this beautiful face. 

Charles presses his shoulder to the wall, leaning on it. The knuckles of his hand graze the wall lightly back and forth. He puts his other hand on his hip, looking a bit to the side. He looks like he's lost in thoughts for a second. 

The sound of the mechanism of Erik's camera resonates in the otherwise silent room. 

"Could you look down to the floor a little, turn your face to your right. Yes, there! Don’t move!" Erik almost shouts, so absorbed in his work he doesn't even realize it. 

He steps closer still, Charles is frowning a little, like something displeases him. Erik has to capture it. The clothes be damned. 

He takes a close up shot, the light hits his face just right, accentuating the shadows, making part of his face look almost lost to the dark. His eyes look so bright like this, piercing. It looks like Charles could dive deep into your soul and leave nothing behind. 

Erik clicks on his camera like a madman. He must already have enough material but he feels like he'll never have enough. He hasn’t felt this much in a frenzy since years, not wanting to stop but also dying to look at his shots. He would never have guessed this shooting would go this well. 

He’s about to step back when a noise on the roof resonates in the room and Charles looks up, surprised, his lips slightly parted, eyes curious and Erik clicks again and again. 

He knew Charles had potential, with such interesting features and being so expressive, but he’s very happy to see that his expectations have been completely surpassed. 

Erik's pocket starts to ring. 

Charles’ eyes snap back to him and he raises an eyebrow in question. Erik lowers his camera and fishes his phone out from his pocket. It’s Magda, she never calls when he works unless it’s urgent. He presses answer striding away from Charles. 

"Magda…" he says, his breath a little caught in his throat. Maybe something had happened to one of the twins. 

"Erik, hi. I’m so sorry to bother you right now but I’ve got an emergency at work. Can you come and fetch the twins? I’ve tried to call both our mothers but I only got their voicemails." Erik lets out a sigh of relief. 

"They’re not home today, remember, they’re at their convention. How long do you have until you have to go?" 

"Oh, that's right. Hmm... Not much, the earlier you can come, the better." 

"Ok, then I’ll wrap things up here and I’ll be on my way." Erik hears her sigh in relief over the line. 

"Thank you, I’ll get their clothes and stuff ready while you arrive. See you soon." 

"Alright bye." Erik hangs up and turns back to Charles, tucking his phone back in his pocket. He hasn't moved from his place near the wall, observing Erik silently. 

"We have to cut this short. I’ve got an emergency so we’re done for today." He says walking toward the desk next to the door to put his camera back in its case, Charles following after him. 

"I didn't know photographers had emergencies" He tells him. Erik looks back over his shoulder while putting his material away before answering. 

"We don't. It's a personal kind of emergency." 

"Oh, I hope it's nothing serious then." Charles answers him sounding a bit contrite. 

"No, nothing of the sort. You wait here, I’ll fetch Azazel, he’ll take care of everything." Erik tells him, grabbing his camera case and turning to face Charles. He's looking at him with a slight frown on his face, not angry but… Confused perhaps? Erik has never been really good at reading people, but it's a shame he has to leave, this is an expression he would have loved to capture. 

"Alright." Charles answers simply. 

Erik nods and strides to the studio’s door. He goes straight to his office to grab his coat, wallet and keys. He whistles when he gets in and the door is closed behind him, not stopping to wait for Azazel to appear. 

A cracking noise tells him that the red skinned man is there. 

"If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you take me for your little pet, always whistling to call for me. A call or even a little text would be nice sometimes, you know? Azazel says pretending to be offended. Erik rolls his eyes, used to the antics of his friend by now. 

"Sure, and I won’t forget to send you flowers either. Listen, I have to go get the twins, so I need you to take care of the last details with Charles for me." Erik explains, grabbing his coat from the rack on the wall and putting it on. He looks up and sees as a huge grin spreads across Azazel’s lips. 

He knows this grin. 

This grin doesn't mean anything good for Erik. He points his forefinger at him. 

"Don’t even start!" He warns taking his wallet from his desk drawer to put it in his coat. If anything, Azazel's grin gets bigger and his friend couldn’t look more like a devil ready to pounce and devour his soul than he does then. 

"I take it things went well then… Did you manage to concentrate at all? Did you keep your hands to yourself?" He asks, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. Erik stops with his hand halfway out if his inner coat pocket, a deadpan look on his face. 

"How old are you? Twelve? I don’t know why I put up with you. So, will you take care of everything?" Erik asks, choosing to ignore his friend's questions, striding to where he's standing near the door. Azazel rolls his eyes dramatically waving a hand dismissively. 

"Who else would tolerate your outstanding attitude?! Of course, I’ll take care of your little protégé, you'll just owe me. Now go!" 

"Yeah yeah, we'll see about that!" Erik answers, already walking past Azazel to the door, trusting his friend completely. 

He and Azazel had met in high school. An unforeseen meeting when the both of them had punched a mutant hater in the face at the same time from each side. It had resulted in a huge fight with him and Azazel on one side, and the guy’s five friends on the other. 

The both of them had gotten out of it pretty banged up but grinning at each other like maniacs. They were expelled for a week and became fast friends after that, both their personalities clicking perfectly. 

They've stayed close ever since, getting into a few more shenanigans along the way. Both had chosen a carrier path that complemented one another, so it was only a logical choice for them to work together. 

Erik quickly leaves the building and jogs to his car, hoping the traffic wouldn’t be too bad at this hour for him to get to Magda’s place quickly. He starts the engine with his powers and gets out of his parking spot. 

He would have to call his mother tonight to make sure she or Ruth could watch the twins when he had to get to work. 

Her and Ruth, Magda's mother and Eddie's best friend, were always taking care of the kids when Magda and he had to work. He could take a day off, he didn’t have anything major planned and he was the boss afterall, but now that he had worked with Charles, he was impatient to work with the pictures. 

The young man was a natural, posing so casually, so beautifully. If Erik didn’t know any better, he’d think he had done this all his life. He'd seen models with years under their belts, do a very poor performance compared to Charles'. 

He’d spend the morning with the kids and work from his office at home in the afternoon. He could always mail a few selected shots to Emma and give her the actual clichés the day after. 

He’ll have to call Charles to plan on a new shoot. The sooner the better. 

He’ll need to check in with Azazel which outfits they could work with too. Something closer to Charles’ body, showcasing his arms and chest a bit more. They needed to make sure they covered enough type of clothing to have a selection of shots to present to Prada for them to approve of Charles as their new ambassador for this season. 

And more close-ups too. To be honest, he could probably do a full shoot composed only of portraits. He was so expressive, it was exactly what Erik was looking for, someone who was pleasant to look at and who didn't look like he was dead inside. His eyes by themselves were so vibrant and full of life, it was hard to not just stare at them for hours on end. 

He snaps out of his train of thoughts when he arrives in Magda’s quiet little street. They had been careful to choose their homes, not too far from each other nor their work places to make things as smooth as possible for the twins. 

He had been back to his mother's place for the holiday break from college when he had met her. Her parents had just moved two houses down from theirs and she was spending the holidays with them. Eddie and Ruth had quickly become friends and they had been eager to introduce them to each other, secretly hoping for them to fall in love at first sight, to date then to marry after college and have beautiful babies together. 

They weren’t wrong per se. They did click. 

Magda’s easy-going attitude and humor seducing Erik right away and his frank and no-nonsense one seducing her in turn. They spent most of their time during this first break together, to their parents’ joy. They were very comfortable around each other. They talked a lot, realizing very quickly they would never really work as a couple as their parents had hoped, but it didn't mean they couldn't enjoy each other's company and bodies in the meantime. 

Their kept their arrangement going for years after that, sleeping together often unless one of them was in a relationship. They still did from time to time, when one of them was feeling lonely or when they dove too much into their past. 

The twins had been a surprise, a pleasant one for them both. The less pleasant part had been their families descending on their heads with all their wrath when they learned about it and discovered they had no intention to get married ever. Things calmed down when the twins were born though. 

They're four now and things have gone smoothly since their birth. They had tried to live together for a few months after but it had been a disaster. They loved each other but they weren't made to live in the same space more than a few days in a raw. They decided to live separately but close by and since then, they have the twins a week each, unless his or her work called them away. 

Erik parks his car in front of Magda’s house and gets out. He just has the time to see the front door fly open and Pietro sprint toward him before jumping in his arms. 

"And how’s my little thunderbolt? Have you been getting faster while I was gone?" Erik asks him kissing his forehead and hugging him. Pietro grins up at him nodding rapidly and just then, Magda gets out of the house with Wanda walking beside her holding her hand. 

She’s still as beautiful as she was when he met her, with her large almond shaped green eyes, pale skin and long curly dark hair with auburn highlights. Wanda looks like a tiny version of her and Erik couldn't be happier. 

"Pietro, what have I told you already?" She scolds him, a hand on her hip, stopping just outside the door. 

"To mhnnmmh..." He mumbles inaudibly, burying his face in the crook of Erik’s neck. Erik gives him a tiny shove with his shoulder for him to lift his head.  

"Pietro, speak clearly please." She asks. He lifts his head looking back sheepishly at his mother. 

“To not open the door and wait ‘till you say to go out…” 

She nods approvingly while Erik walks up to her. When she’s within reach, she outstretches her arm to ruffle Pietro’s silver hair. Erik smiles at her bending down to kiss her cheek. 

“And how are my two beautiful ladies today?” he asks crouching down to wrap his free arm around Wanda and scoop her up like her brother. He kisses her too and when she starts giggling, he blows a raspberry in the crook of her tiny neck. She squirms in his arms. 

“Tickles papa!” Erik grins then looks back at Magda who has a soft smile on her face. “Is everything ready?” he asks her. 

“It is.” She makes a follow me gesture with her head before turning around and getting back inside the house. Erik follows after her. 

“I’m really sorry for calling you like this but I had no other choice, remember the lectures planned in Chicago? Well, Wendy’s down with the flu so she can’t go, and since I’m the only one who knows the subject as well as her since we’ve prepared it together, I’m the one to go.” 

“It’s alright, I’m my own boss so I do whatever I want or work at home and you know I’ll never mind taking the little beans with me.” He answers her, squeezing Pietro and Wanda against him a little. 

“Papa, beans are for eating! We’re not food!” Wanda tells him looking affronted. Erik pretends to be shocked. 

“What? No, I’m sure this isn’t true. Look, there’s a delicious arm right there...” He makes a show of trying to take a bite of her arm, making her laugh and push at his face with her tiny hands. “Oh! And would you look at that? There’s another one right here! See?” He does the same with Pietro, who lets himself get caught by Erik’s teeth. Erik nibbles on his arm making sure to make a lot of exaggerated munching noises while Pietro squirms and laughs. “Hmm! Delicious little beans!” 

They both hug him at the same time, with big grins on their faces and Erik hugs them close too. He releases them after a few moments. 

“Alright babies, would you please go fetch your backpacks for me so Mama can go to work?” They both nod and he lets them down. Pietro rushes first while Wanda runs after him screaming for him to wait for her. 

He turns back to where Magda is packing the last of her small suitcase. She looks over her shoulder at him. 

“I should be back in four or five days; will you be alright?” 

“Of course, don’t worry. Worst case scenario, the grandma team will come to the rescue.” He says smiling fondly, thinking about the force of nature both their mothers represents. She chuckles shaking her head. 

“Pretty sure they’ll come even if there’s nothing to rescue.” She answers just as the twins come back with their coats on and their backpacks in their hands. 

“We can go Papa!” Wanda tells him proudly. Erik looks at them and raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you sure? Haven’t you forgotten something that’s supposed to go on your feet? » He asks them. They both look down at their feet at the same time and gasp before running to the closet by the front door to get their shoes. 

Magda starts putting on her coat and Erik grabs her suitcase. He walks to the door with her and look at the twins tying up their shoes. They’re quickly done and ready to go. 

Erik lets Magda step before him to open the door and they all go outside. 

“Time to give Mama a big kiss and a hug before we go.” He doesn’t have to say it twice, they both rush to Magda who has barely the time to crouch to catch them in her arms and bury her face in their necks. 

“Going to miss you Mama.” Wanda tells her in a plaintive tone. Magda smiles down at her and kisses her cheek. 

“I’m going to miss you two very much too. But I’ll call you every day, I promise! Ok?” 

Wanda and Pietro nod their little faces radiating sadness but there is nothing for it. No matter how long one of them has to be away from the kids, it’s always hard for everyone. 

Erik steps up to Magda and hugs her too. 

“Have a safe trip and call me when you arrive.” 

“Will do.” She answers him smiling brightly. I really have to go now. Babies, you take good care of Papa, alright? And tell me if he doesn’t behave, then no presents for him!” 

The twins’ sad faces transform in an instant in a mask of glee, both nodding eagerly to their mother. Magda goes to her car and they watch her get in and buckle up. She waves at them before starting the engine and leaving. They watch until the car disappears from their sight then they all turn to Erik’s car. 

He opens the trunk with his powers and takes out their baby seats. He places them on the back seat and opens the door with a flick of his hand for the kids to climb in. 

He goes on the driver’s side and gets in as well. 

“Papa, can you buckle us up?” Pietro asks. Both of them are watching him expectantly with a hopeful smile on their little faces. 

“What’s the magic word?” 

“Pleeeeaaase!” They both shout in unison. Erik nods approvingly and takes hold of the metal part of the seat belt buckles and drags them slowly around them, making the buckles move about to tickle their stomach to Wanda and Pietro’s delight. 

They always love to watch him use his powers and he’s always all too happy to oblige. He grins when the belts click in place and they grin back at him. 

He’s just buckling himself up when his phone starts ringing in his pocket. He takes out his phone, it’s Emma. 

He answers and puts the phone on the holder on the dashboard pressing the speaker button. 

“Emma.” 

“Azazel just left my office, he told me you had to go get Wanda and Pietro.” 

“Hello Emmaaa!” Both the twins shout from the back seat. 

They love Emma and she loves them just as much. She spoils them too much to Erik’s despair but no matter how much he tries, there’s no reasoning her about it. The kids are thrilled to no end that they can “speak in secret” with her, as they say. Emma is surprisingly patient and attentive to them. Erik didn’t even think these emotions were even in the realm of possibility for her. 

“Do I hear my two favorite little diamonds in the world? You’ll have to come to see me while you’re with Papa, I may have something for each of you hidden in my office…” She tells them a smile in her voice. The twins cheer, very happy about this announcement and start to talk between them about what the surprise could be. Now they would be pestering him to go see Emma day and night. 

He sighs. 

“You spoil them too much.” Erik tells her making het scoff. 

“There’s no such thing as spoiling a child. Anyway, Azazel told me the shoot went well?” Erik shakes his head, no matter what he told her about the twins, she’ll do as she pleases anyway. 

“It did, very well actually. I’ll work on the pictures I’ve taken today and pick my favorites to show you. Now there’s just hoping it went well for him as well.” 

“What, you mean he wasn’t charmed by your lovely attitude?” She says mockingly, knowing very well that he couldn’t possibly answer her as he would usually with the twins right there with him. 

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He cuts off the conversation before she has time to answer. There, he knows it’s petty but he feels better. 

“Papaaaaaa, can we get pizza?” Pietro asks with big hopeful eyes looking at him in the rear-view mirror. He looks at Wanda and she’s wearing the exact same expression. He sighs again, it was impossible to resist these two angelic faces. 

“Pizza it will be then.” He says starting the car to the sounds of his kids cheering and laughing in the background.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible trigger for non-descript verbal violence.

Charles has barely set foot in the entryway when Raven pounces on him.

“How did it go ? Did you like it ? Was he an ass again ? Did he make you wear strange outfits ? Did you have to pose naked ? Did...”

“Raven !” he cuts her off loudly. “Breathe, please.”

“Sorry, I’m just very excited.” she tells him smiling sheepishly. 

“I can see that. Come now, let me get some tea and then you may ask as many questions as you like.” he says walking ahead of her towards the kitchen already knowing he’ll probably regret telling her this.

They step in the kitchen in silence, Raven almost vibrating with excitement behind him. Her mind a tsunami of what why and hows waiting to flood Charles. He prepares his tea and sits down at the table while he waits for the water to boil.

“Alright, ask ahead.” he tells her. She throws herself on the chair in front of him, glee lighting up her blue face.

“How was it?” 

“It was… surprisingly nice actually.” He says with a small smile. She raises an eyebrow at his reaction. 

“Ohh? You look like you really had a good ride.” She tells him teasingly and he snorts. 

“Please, it’s nothing like what you’re insinuating. I went there practically convinced it would be a prank or worse, but not only Lehnsherr was serious, the short shoot we did today was a first for us both too. Needless to say I was quite baffled.” He says still half wondering if it was all real. 

“What? Really?” 

“Yes, really. At least from what the secretary told me. I just went from surprise to surprise.” He adds shaking his head a little, getting up to put the leaves in the water and wait for them to sit for a few minutes. 

“That’s… unexpected, but it’s good right? It means he liked your face so much he went out of his way to get to work with you.” she says, resting her chin on her hand, her elbow braced on the table. 

“I guess so. If there’s something I’m sure about after that first meeting, it’s that he’s very professional and not that rude either by the way, once you get past the first impression.” He tells her pouring them both a cup of tea. 

“Has he actually brainwashed you and you’ve enjoyed every second of it?” She asked half mocking taking the cup he hands her making him chuckle. 

“Well, I certainly feel like my world’s been torn upside down.” He says remembering how nice it actually was to work with the man, to be the sole focus of the razor-sharp gaze, how intense and overwhelming it had felt for him to stand there with him, and resist not plunging into this neat and appealing mind. 

He shakes his head chasing the thoughts away. There’ll be better time to think back to all this. Possibly not when his baby sister is in the same room as him. 

“Did you know that Lehnsherr is a mutant? He’s a métallo-kinetic and his company hires mutants exclusively.” He adds. 

“Wow really ? That’s amazing!” she says, her whole face lighting up like each time anyone mentions other mutants. 

“Yes, it is. I’ve met a very nice woman named Angel with dragonfly wings tattooed on her skin who can actually fly, and a red skinned teleporter with a tail. Oh, and it seems like Lehnsherr also works with a telepath.” He tells her excitedly, bringing his cup to his lips to drink, watching as her yellow eyes grow in amazement. 

“Red skin? Like red red or reddish?” She asks trying very hard to hide her excitement, almost bouncing out of her sit and of course she would focus on Azazel… Physical mutations were always her favorites, which was more than natural. 

“As red as you are blue.” He answers her a fond smile on his face. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, seemingly absorbing this information and then she lights up again. 

“This is the moment where you thank me for impersonating you and forcing you to go. And as a thank you, like the good big brother you are, you’re taking me with you next time.” She tells him her smile turning into a triumphant grin. Charles' mind immediately goes to the leering look Azazel threw him, and the vicious lust that had sprung from his mind. He shudders imagining Raven under such scrutiny. 

“What? No. Absolutely not. You’re not coming. And I don’t even know if there’ll be a next time.” 

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?” she tries with an adorable pout. 

“Still no.” he answers looking down into the depth of his cup to avoid falling for such a cute expression. 

“Please, please, please, please Charles. Let me come with you!” she pleads. 

“No, no, no and no Raven.” He mimics her trying to sound firm, there’s no way he’ll bring his sister anywhere close to this man. 

“Oh come on! I’m not a kid anymore!” she tells him affronted, her tone rising in volume.

“No, but you’re not an adult either. Don’t start Raven, you’re not going, end of discussion.” He snaps and he watches in dismay as her expression closes off entirely and she rises from her seat. 

“Fine, then you certainly don’t need a kid to pester you.” She adds, her tone cutting and turns her back on him to leave. 

“Raven…” He calls apologetically to her retreating back in vain. 

He sighs. One would think being a telepath would help him dissolve any tension that could arise between the both of us but no, he seemed to always instigate them instead. 

Well, there was nothing for it. Raven would calm down after a little while and he would apologize then, he thinks sighing again.

He finishes his tea and looks at his watch. Moira and Hank would be there in an hour top. He’ll take a shower and go over his notes and results before they arrive, maybe deal with Raven too if she’s calmed down enough. 

He does not check if his cellphone’s volume is on, does not wonder what a certain moody photographer is doing nor if he’ll call. That would be ridiculous. 

Right? 

Right. 

 

___

 

“Guys, would it actually kill you to write legibly for once so I don’t get a migraine trying to decipher your chicken scratch?” Moira tells them annoyed, glaring down at them. 

Hank and Charles look up at her from their textbooks, grinning. She always complains about their handwriting each time they’re working together and she goes over their notes to enter information in Charles’ laptop. 

They meet at each other’s place at least twice a week when they’re not working at the university. They work well together, their different skills complementing the others perfectly. It made their work time more bearable and definitely more efficient when they could be with each other and think with three heads instead of one. 

“We wouldn’t want to make it too easy for you my dear, now, would we?” Charles tells her and she just gives him a flat look before they all go back to their respective tasks. 

They’ve been working for a little over thirty minutes in Charles’ bedroom, Moira is spread on her front sideways on Charles’ bed, his laptop opened in front of her, Hank and Charles sit on the floor, books, notepads and pens scattered all around them. 

Charles is completely immersed in the text he’s reading when something starts vibrating on his bed. He doesn’t pay attention to it until Moira asks with glee:

“Ohh, who’s E. Lehnsherr?” 

Charles’ head snaps up. He sees Moira sitting on the edge of his bed, his phone in her hands and his eyes go wide. Which, of course she immediately notices, starting to chuckle.

“Give me back my phone!” He almost shouts launching himself at her. Which, considering her quick reflexes and his disadvantage at being on the floor while she’s on the bed, wasn’t such a good idea. He ends up landing on his ass while he watches in horror as she presses the accept button.

“Hello?” She answers sweetly and Charles is gaping, he’s certainly never heard this saccharine tone from his friend before and he’s known her for four years already. 

“Yes, this is his number. How may I help you?” she asks her eyes on Charles’ face, smirking down at him. 

He can only hear Moira’s side of the conversation and he’s dying to just dive in her mind to hear what Lehnsherr says too, which he won’t do. Unlike her, he has some principles. 

“No, I’m sorry but he’s in the bathroom right now. Can I take a message maybe?” She says and Charles is going to kill her! Maybe even find a way to bring her back to kill her again. 

“Very well, good…” she doesn’t finish her sentence and looks at the phone in her hand then back at Charles. “He hung up on me.” She says dumbfounded and Charles can’t help but laugh. 

“Serves you right for answering my phone! I can’t believe you just did that.” He says shaking his head. 

“What did he say?” He asks and she tuts. 

“No, no, no. First you’re going to tell us who is this guy.” She tells him frowning, looking much older suddenly and, Charles is loathe to admit, almost scary. 

“You do remember that I could just either pluck the information directly from your mind or make you tell me, right?” he says with a little disbelieving laugh, gesturing to his head with his fingers. 

“I won’t talk unless you tell us about this guy, so go ahead, make me.” She tells him challengingly and bloody hell, of course she wouldn’t back off.

“Hank, please tell her she’s being ridiculous.” Charles says turning to his best friend with pleading eyes.

“Huh…” Hank starts, looking first at Moira then back at Charles before straightening up. “Actually, I want to know who’s the guy too.” He tells Charles and Moira cheers throwing her fist at him for him to bump. 

Charles groans and flops back on the floor. 

“You two are terrible and I don’t know why I ever considered any of you my friends. Traitors!” 

“Come on Charles, stop being so dramatic, just spit it out already or I’ll go fetch Raven…” she sing-songs and he doesn’t even have to see her face to hear the glee in her voice nor feel the triumph lighting up in her mind.

“Alright, alright! You win!” he says throwing his hands up in the air in a placating gesture before sitting cross legged. “He’s a photograph I met at Logan’s Café who was interested in working with me.” He watches as Moira’s eyebrows climb up her forehead. 

“Don’t tell me you fell for such a cheap trap!” she says indignant and he scoffs. 

“Of course not! Well, yes but… not really. I mean… Long story short, I ended up actually doing a shoot with him! And no, before you ask, it wasn’t a naked shoot or porn or anything like that, have a little faith, please. There, now you know! So, what did he say?” Charles asks looking up at his friends who are both gaping at him.  
Moira gets herself under control soon enough, her expression still disbelieving and she hands him his phone which he hastens to grab. 

“Fine, but you’re going to tell us all about this after. In details. Many many detailed details.” She tells him her eyes narrowed, pointing her index finger at him. When he agrees, she adds: “he asked for you to call him back.” 

Charles shakes his head. All that circus just for this… He should have known. 

He takes his phone, unlocks it and pulls up Lehnsherr’s contact info before pressing call. 

Just like last time, the tone rings twice before the man answers in a gruff voice. 

“Lehnsherr.” 

“Hi, this is Charles. My friend told me you had called.” He says, his heart beating surprisingly fast. 

“Yes, I wanted to know if you were free tomorrow afternoon, around 3pm. I’d like to show you some of the work we did today and do another shoot since this one’s been cut short.” And wow… Charles didn’t actually expect the man to want to work with him again. Especially not after looking at today’s pictures. Was he trying to go out of business? 

“Charles?” the man prompts jolting Charles out of his thoughts. 

“Oh, sorry. I was checking my schedule.” Or not... “I’m free tomorrow afternoon at 3.” He tells the man doing his best to avoid both his friends’ curious stares.

“Alright, it’s… Pietro! Get down this table right now, I said no climbing!” he hears the man scold and Charles frowns until he hears a small plaintive voice down the line “But Papa… Wanda wanted a show!” Oh… So he’s a father, Charles thinks feeling strangely disappointed all of a sudden. “No show on the table! Now go play in your room. Sorry Charles, so 3pm at the studio tomorrow?” he asks startling Charles slightly. 

“I’ll be there.” 

“Good, see you tomorrow then.” 

“Bye.” Charles says before the line cuts off. 

“So you have a date.” Moira states and Charles wants to laugh. Trust his friends to jump to this conclusion while the situation was completely different.

“No, just another shoot.” He tells them. 

“You sound disappointed.” She points out. 

“No, no. Just a bit nervous.” he answers her but wasn’t he, really? 

It’s not like he knew the man, they met for no more than 2 hours in total and being barely cordial with each other at that. The man is a father so probably married too, so there’s no reason for him to be disappointed really. There was nothing to hope for from the beginning, Charles was just foolish to think that the spikes of interest he felt from the man when they first met at Logan’s Café was anything more than professional. 

“If he wants to work with you again, that’s for a good reason, you probably have nothing to be nervous about and you’re good at everything you put your mind into anyway. It’ll be alright.” Hank tells him and this coming from him is very touching. It lifts Charles’ spirits right away. No need to fill his head with stupid questions or speculations when he has such precious friends there for him. 

“You’re probably right, thank you Hank.” He says and watches fondly as the young man ducks his head blushing slightly. 

Now, he had to go tell Raven the good news, apologize and thank her properly this time.

 

____

 

As planned the next day, he arrives at Lehnsherr’s studio just fifteen minutes before the appointed time. He walks into the building, delighted to see Angel there again. She’s talking with a blonde woman dressed fully in white. Just as Angel spots him, the woman turns to him and his smile freezes on his face. 

He can feel the woman. 

He feels everyone around him all the time, it’s like standing in a street full of strangers dressed in grey, going about their business. They’re part of the scenery, all the same background noise unless he focuses on one particular individual to give them his attention, then they stand out to him. 

This woman though. It’s like she’s dressed in bright red, unmoving face to him. A bright flower in the middle of a grey sea. And she’s reaching out. 

He feels the cold presence inside his head, like fresh water over burning skin on a particularly hot day and he embraces it, welcomes it. 

He sees her smile and he mirrors her. He reaches out too. 

Her name is Emma Frost and he feels her whisper in his mind : _“Welcome to Genosha Studios, Charles Xavier.”_

And Charles smiles brightly at her. 

_“Thank you, Emma.” _He whispers back, delighted to meet another telepath for the first time.__

__Their attention is torn from each other by Angel._ _

__“Not that it’s not fascinating to watch you both smile beatifically at each other but it’s kind of creeping me out. I didn’t even know Emma was actually capable of such an emotion.” She says teasingly and Emma just takes it in stride._ _

__“That’s because you’re not worthy.” She tells her winking and Angel laughs._ _

__“Good to see you Charles, glad to see Erik hasn’t managed to scare you off.” She says and Charles smiles warmly at her before answering._ _

__“You too Angel. And he’s not that scary actually, just an ass.” He says grinning mischievously._ _

__“Your words, not mine!” She adds laughing._ _

__“That’s Erik for you.” Emma adds. “Alright, come with me Charles, I’ve got a few papers for you to sign, then you’ll be free to see the beast.”_ _

__Charles can’t help but think about the impressive bulge in the man’s pants at these words. When he hears Emma snort, he feels himself flush bright red. He forgot she could hear him._ _

___“Don’t worry about it Sugar. Let’s make things clear between us right away.”_ She sends him mentally walking a few steps ahead of him. _“No taboo, no shame. There’s no need for pretense between us, we both keep our shields up for other people’s comfort but I don’t think that’s necessary between the two of us. Afterall, it’s not everyday we get to meet other telepaths and can use and enjoy our powers as fully.”_ She tells him and she has a point, they could be themselves around each other because they understood what it was like to feel leashed all the time._ _

___“It would be my pleasure.”_ He says and drops his barriers. He can feel her do the same right away and he feels how pleased she is, how liberating it is. He feels her presence completely, just not through a dull grey veil, she’s as bright as a diamond, as fresh as a waterfall and he enjoys every second of her refreshing presence. _ _

__They arrive at her office and he sits down in the white leather chair in front of Emma’s desk while she sits behind it. She takes a few papers on her right and deposits them in front of him._ _

__After discussing the details with her, feeling reassured and more at ease about the whole thing, he thanks her and takes his leave._ _

__Time to face the beast. Charles thinks smiling to himself, heading for the studio._ _

__

______ _

__

__Charles walks into the vast room. Erik’s material is already set up, some lights put up around the space today._ _

__He turns his head on his left to the dressing area and sees Lehnsherr bent over a table next to Azazel, both looking over what look like sketches and talking animatedly._ _

___A truly fine ass._ Charles thinks drinking in the sight of the broad shoulders tapering in an incredibly fine waist, of muscled buttocks and long thin legs. All of this highlighted by a completely black outfit, a long sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows and black fitting jeans hugging his body just enough to make Charles salivate. _ _

__He realizes he’s been staring for too long and decides to make his presence known, less they think he’s a creep if they notice._ _

__He clears his throat and says a little hello._ _

__Both men look back at him and straighten up at the same time, their moves almost in sync. The sight would have been funny if both of their stare weren’t so intimidating._ _

__“And he finally appears.” Azazel says with, well, on him it can only be called a devilish smile._ _

__“I’m sorry for being late, I was going over the contract with Emma.” He tells them and Lehnsherr nods._ _

__“Good, if everything is settled, we’ll start then. First the shoot, then I’ll show you the result of yesterday’s work.” Charles nods and he continues. “All right, Azazel and I selected a few outfits for today, various styles so we have more material to see what works and what doesn’t.” with that he turns to Azazel before telling him: “Get the shirt and blazer first, and mess up his hair please.”_ _

__Azazel nods smiling broadly and gestures to Charles to come closer while Lehnsherr leaves them alone probably to deal with the last minute settings of his equipment._ _

__He puts his bagpack on the floor against the wall and looks at the clothes Azazel is taking from the rack on the side of the small space._ _

__It’s a white button down shirt, black pressed pants and a black blazer. The outfit is simple enough but Charles can see from the cut and material that’s it’s high quality. Not too formal, not too casual, just plainly classy._ _

__Charles takes off his jacket and turns his back to Azazel to deposit it on the chair in the corner, then he takes off his t-shirt and feels Azazel’s mind suddenly spiking with interest._ _

__He waits as he feels the man’s curiosity spike, his breath caught in his throat. When nothing comes, he sighs in relief then turns to the man again to take the shirt from his hand, looking down at the garment to avoid eye contact. He quickly passes it on, then changes into the pants, both fitting him like a glove.  
Azazel steps closer then looks at the clothes attentively for a second. _ _

__“I’m going to adjust a few details.” He tells him, waiting for him to give his assent before reaching out to unbutton the two topmost buttons of the shirt and readjust the collar just so. When he’s satisfied, he grabs a pot of hair wax from the table to put some on his hands and start working on Charles’ hair. It only takes a couple of minutes before he nods satisfied and gestures to the mirror._ _

__Charles turns and… OK. He doesn’t look that bad actually._ _

__His hair is mused like he spent the last couple of hours threading his hand through it, and in combination with the clothes, he looks like he just came back from a wild night of partying. It’s… kind of sexy if he’s being honest with himself._ _

__“Don’t put the jacket on yet, Erik will decide when you need to put it on.” He tells him and hands him the clothe._ _

__Charles steps out of the dressing area and walks to Lehnsherr. When he’s a few steps away, the man turns to him and takes in his appearance._ _

__Charles is once again caught off guard by the intensity of this stare, by these clear blue eyes that seem to pierce right through him and make him want to drop his pants right then and there._ _

__“Perfect. Put the jacket on for the time being.” Lehnsherr says as he nods in approval. “Go stand where the chair is, we’ll work around it.”_ _

__Charles does as he’s told, putting the jacket on as he goes to stand just behind the chair. He adjusts the jacket, checking the sleeves at his wrists, and looks up at Lehnsherr when he’s done, grabbing the back of the chair to lean on it, about to ask for instructions when he sees that the man has already started to snap a few shots of him._ _

__A small smile tugs at Charles’ lips when he wonders what was interesting in him adjusting his jacket but it’s not like he’s the photograph here._ _

__He leans a little more forward on the chair, following Lehnsherr’s moving about with his eyes, to capture various angles. Unlike last time, he doesn’t feel nervous or awkward, rather happy and curious about today’s session, enjoying the feeling of unwavering focus from the man facing him._ _

__He moves without waiting for Lehnsherr to say anything, resting his forearms on the chair, threading his fingers of both his hands loosely together, looking straight ahead feeling pretty excited at the approval radiating from the man._ _

__He never thought he’d actually enjoy working as a model, never even entertained the idea of being one to begin with. To be honest, he’s still baffled that Lehnsherr saw something worth exploiting when they first met, but he’s here and even thought he felt a bit like an idiot the first time under Lehnsherr’s lens, the man guided him smoothly and soon enough, he felt comfortable._ _

__Today, he’s fully relaxed, half due to the fact that he knew what to expect, half due to Lehnsherr’s professionalism. The clothes are comfortable, the satisfaction wafting from the man facing him immensely gratifying and the view of the man so focused while working combined with the sharpness of his mind, well, let’s say that Charles feels very good._ _

__He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the man’s voice._ _

__“Good, take off the jacket now, don’t go too fast doing so and throw it over your shoulder.” He tells him barely looking up from his camera._ _

__“So bossy…” Charles can’t help but comment and the man looks up at him then, eyebrows slightly raised._ _

__“Would you prefer if I asked on my knees?” he says and Charles tries very hard to ban this image from his mind, he really doesn’t need this kind of thoughts right now._ _

__“No need to be so dramatic, but a please once in a while wouldn’t hurt…” Charles throws back a corner of his mouth curling up when he sees the man shake his head, a little smile tugging at his lips._ _

__Not for the first time, Charles wishes he was the photograph and Erik the model. The man is gorgeous, yes, but it’s not only that. Charles would love to be able to capture these few fleeting expressions on his usually stern face. From this soft teasing smile, to the intense focus in his eyes and the set of his jaw as he works, the slight frown obscuring pale icy eyes as he has to make adjustments to his cameras… He’s a man of contrasts and Charles would love to bring light to them all._ _

__He starts taking off the jacket from his shoulders, slowly, very aware of each of his movements, wondering if he should just do as usual or try to look good, unthinkingly turning to the impressions from Lehnsherr’s mind. From the clicks of the shutter resonating in the room to the loud _“yes, perfect”_ he hears without even going deeper, natural it is. _ _

__Once the jacket is taken off, he holds it with two fingers and throws it over his shoulder, looking up for a few seconds to the shadows cast over the ceiling by the artificial lights._ _

__“Don’t move!” Lehnsherr’s voice resonates in the room startling Charles slightly. He stays unmoving for a moment, the photograph stepping a bit closer to him, going to his right, then his left._ _

__“Perfect, now turn the chair around and lean on the back.” Lehnsherr tells him. “Please” he adds catching Charles’ eyes._ _

__Charles smirks, delighted that the man chooses to play along._ _

__“We’re making progress!” he teases, gripping the back of the chair with his hands behind him and leaning his butt in between. He moves his legs a bit apart, trying to find his balance, very cautious not to fall._ _

__“OK, good. Could you please be so kind as to cross your legs at your ankles my good Sir?” the photograph asks making Charles snort._ _

__“Are you trying to cajole me into falling on my face?” He asks while moving his legs._ _

__“Not on your face, that would ruin our session. Your butt though...” He retorts smirking._ _

__“Haha.” Charles says deadpan. “You’re an arse, just so you know.” Lehnsherr snorts, still smirking, looking very much like the Cheshire cat who got the cream. He gets back to his camera and his pictures, snapping several shots from various angles._ _

__“Ok, good.” He says before striding to him. Charles looks at him surprisingly and waits, curious. Lehnsherr reaches him and lets his camera float next to him. Charles wants nothing more than to dive into his mind to and witness firsthand how Lehnsherr’s powers work, how they feel, how different or similar they are to his own telepathy._ _

__“Can I?” Lehnsherr asks, startling him from his thoughts, gesturing to his hand. Charles nods in ascent and lifts it for better access. The man turns his arm a little to unfasten the cuff then proceeds to roll it just under his elbow._ _

__Charles has trouble not fidgeting under his touch, the long thin fingers almost tickling the sensitive skin of his inner arm, his scent invading his every breaths. He concentrates on the man’s hands instead, skin freckled, veins protruding from it, fine hairs dusted at the base, moves gentle and efficient._ _

__It doesn’t help much._ _

__Charles has a thing for hands and the man has very attractive ones. Charles can picture them perfectly, shiny with oil, long fingers massaging firm flesh and wrapping around… his arm! Definitely around his arm…_ _

__Time to focus on the floor._ _

__Once Lehnsherr is done smoothing any crease, he does the same on the other side then takes a step back to observe his handiwork. He nods, apparently satisfied then grabs the chair to turn it around and gestures for him to sit._ _

__Charles does then waits for further instructions watching the photograph walk back to his previous place._ _

__“Don’t sit so stiffly, relax, lean back. A bit more. More. Yes, there, perfect. Let your arms rest over your thighs and your hands hang between them. Good, now look at me and don’t move.”_ _

__Charles obeys, once again amazed at the man’s professionalism and ability to guide him so casually. The suggestions flow and he follows without question, without doubt, as surely as any metal objet under his control._ _

__A small smile tugs at his lips at this thought, not bothered by it in the least. He realizes in astonishment that he barely knows the man yet trusts him. There’s something about him that makes Charles feel completely at ease, no worries in mind, no studies, no Raven, no Kurt, nor Cain, just the both of them and the camera, as easy as breathing._ _

__“You’re going to switch outfits.” Lehnsherr says before whistling. A few seconds tick by then the telltale crack of Azazel appearing resounds around them. He looks at Lehnsherr with an annoyed look on his face which the man ignores completely._ _

__“Take the tanktop, jeans and leather jacket.” He tells the man._ _

__Charles can’t resist faking a little cough followed by a quick please muffled by his fist pressed over his mouth. Lehnsherr glances his way, and seeing the smile on Charles’ face, rolls his eyes before adding an exasperated please to Azazel who looks between the two of them before smirking mockingly at Lehnsherr._ _

__“Someone’s got you whipped already…” he says wriggling his eyebrows._ _

__“And that’s why you don’t deserve politeness.” Lehnsherr retorts immediately. “Now, get to work or I’ll start looking for a new assistant soon.” He threatens turning his back to them and focusing on his camera instead._ _

__If possible, Azazel’s smirk grows wider when he turns to get the clothes Lehnsherr asked for._ _

__Charles quickly takes off the shirt and pants for the new outfit, passing it on then walking to Azazel for him to adjust a few details to his liking, then fix his hair. Once done, Charles thanks the man and strides back to Lehnsherr._ _

__“OK, sit on the chair but lean forward and clasp your hands together.”_ _

__Charles does as told, looking down at his hands before looking back up at the photograph already taking pictures._ _

__“Stop! Do that again.” He asks and Charles looks at him questioningly._ _

__“What?”_ _

__“Lower your head like before then lift it slowly to look at me and stop moving when I tell you to.”_ _

__Charles starts again, slowly looking up at the man until he gives him the signal to freeze. His head is still half bowed, a bit tilted to the side, looking at Lehnsherr under the cover of his eyelashes, watching as he turns around him to get several angles of the pose._ _

__“Perfect, now lean just a little bit back. There. Grab the lapels of the jacket. Wait no, just the right one and look to your left. There, don’t move.”_ _

__Once again Charles obeys, his left hand fisting at the black duffle lapel, enjoying the soft wool under his fingers. He hears more than he sees Lehnsherr taking pictures, feels his unwavering concentration solely focused on him._ _

__There’s a pause and Charles looks back at the man, thinking of another pose to take when he notices the camera lowered a bit down and the man's eyes looking to the side. Charles is about to ask if there’s a problem but the man cuts him to it._ _

__“Someone is trying to call you, your cellphone has been ringing thrice already.” Lehnsherr tells him and Charles is confused, he remembers putting his phone on silent, had he just imagined it? He didn’t even hear anything either._ _

__His confusion must show on his face because the man clarifies._ _

__“I felt your phone vibrate in your bagpack.”_ _

__“Oh.” Charles says his mind going back to how the man’s mutation works and what exactly he could feel with his powers._ _

__“You should get it, it’s ringing again.” Lehnsherr says._ _

__At these words, Charles bolts from the chair, worry starting to gnaw at him. He throws himself on his knees in the small dressing area, grabbing his bag to get his phone from the front pocket, his stomach dropping when he sees Raven’s name and picture on the screen._ _

__He swiftly answers before bringing the phone to his ear._ _

__“Yes?”_ _

__“Charles, oh, thank God!” Raven says, a sob punctuating her sentence. He hears some noise in the background and dread fills him._ _

__“What happened?” he asks._ _

__“It’s… it’s Kurt… He came back home and I didn’t hear him, and he… He’s completely drunk. He saw me blue and exploded.” Charles feels anger and fear for his baby sister twist in his stomach, his free hand fisting on his bag before he grabs it and throws it on his shoulder._ _

__“Where are you now?” he asks, getting up. He hears pounding behind Raven, then someone shouting incomprehensibly and Raven’s hiccup of fear._ _

__“I’ve locked myself in my bathroom, after locking my bedroom door. Please come home.” She says pleadingly. Charles feels a stab of pain at her words, turning to leave._ _

__“I’m on my way.” He says, his eyes landing on Lehnsherr and his steps falter. He had completely forgotten about the man._ _

__Lehnsherr whistles and Azazel pops up, words on his lips that falter when he sees the expression on both their faces._ _

__“What’s wrong?” He asks, his own expression turning dark._ _

__“Take Charles and go.” Lehnsherr tells him without breaking eye contact with Charles, expression serious, brooking not argument._ _

__“Thank you.” Charles sighs before turning to Azazel who’s already stepped to him grabbing his forearm._ _

__“Where to?” he asks and Charles doesn’t warn him nor even asks for permission before dumping the information directly in Azazel’s mind. He has a second where he feels the man’s surprise before the world seems to whirl around him and when it refocuses, he’s standing with Azazel in front of the manor’s door._ _

__“I’m here.” He says to Raven who’s still on the line with him before opening his mind to zero in on his stepfather. He doesn’t waste a second after finding him and shuts him down, dropping him to sleep._ _

__“It’s OK, it’s safe now. I’m coming up to you.” He tells his sister gently, still not hanging up, listening to her cry over the line, his heart constricting in his chest._ _

__He remembers just then that he’s not alone and turns to Azazel. The man is looking at him with wonder in his eyes and mind. Charles quickly puts his barriers back up again._ _

__“Thank you for the ride.” He tells the man sincerely._ _

__“No problem.” Azazel answers, seeming to hesitate for a moment, looking somewhat uncomfortable before adding, “Will you be alright? Is there’s something I can help with?”_ _

__Charles smiles at the offer shaking his head, not wanting to open this can of worm with the man._ _

__“Thanks but everything is fine now.” He tells him then remembers that he left the shoot in a hurry with the clothes still on. “Can you tell Mr. Lehnsherr that I’m sorry I left the shoot this abruptly, I’ll bring back the clothes soon.”_ _

__“Don’t worry about the clothes. I’ll pass your message to Lehnsherr.” He tells him before saluting and disappearing with a loud crack._ _

__Charles turns back to the mansion, striding to the door, his mind opening again to find Kurt and drop his unconscious body to his bedroom on the third floor while heading to Raven’s bedroom._ _

__He had his sister to reassure and comfort now._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, a new chapter with a tiny bit of angst! :) 
> 
> Also, I've seen Dark Phoenix and it shows? Thanks to the movie, Erik's studio has now a name (I have lots of feelings about Genosha, OK?) and his outfit here is also the same one as in the movie because, he hot!!! :D
> 
> Don't hesitate to share your thoughts on [Tumblr](http://autheane.tumblr.com/) or on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Autheane) or even here! Feedback is always appreciated! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not fully satisfied with this but since I can't get it right after many attempts, I'll just throw this to the void!

Erik is in his office, sitting behind his desk selecting pictures from a shoot he did this morning. At least, that’s what he’s supposed to be doing. He’s been staring unblinkingly at the same spot on the wall for the last five minutes without really seeing it, utterly lost in thoughts. 

 

 

The phone on his desk rings and he jumps in his seat at the sudden noise. He groans, angry at himself for being so out of it today and so easily startled. Good thing no one was there to witness it. 

 

 

Out of spite, he lets the phone ring and ring without picking it up, the sound piercing his ears and reverberating through his skull. 

 

 

Serve them right to startle him in the first place. 

 

 

He looks back at his computer screen, the model staring back at him almost mockingly and he sighs. He has selected only six pictures this far and he’s been working on this for a little over an hour now. 

 

 

He scrolls through three more pictures, staring at the model, at the clean cut of his jaw, the set of his eyes, his straight nose and perfect hair. The man is by beauty standards perfect, a god walking among them and yet, Erik only feels apathy looking at him. 

 

 

He can’t help but think of vibrant and expressive blue eyes, of a nose just on that side of hooked, a soft jaw, fair skin dusted in a million cinnamon grains and red inviting lips. Said eyes drowned in anger and worry, mouth pinched in a tight line and skin all too pale. 

 

 

He feels the anger rise in him again, fierce and sudden like the head of a snake ready to strike at whomever turned this beautiful, sweet and joyous face so sour. 

 

 

Realizing where his train of thoughts has led him yet again for only the fiftieth time since Charles left with Azazel today, the anger subsides a little to leave place to annoyance. 

 

 

Why does he care ? It’s not like he knows what the problem is. It’s not like it’s any of his business to begin with, he thinks bitterly, remembering the pretty face of the blonde girl on Charles’ screen just before he took the call, the worry in his eyes when he had answered her. 

 

 

Clearly, Charles cares very much about her. 

 

 

His mind goes back to what could have been so urgent for Charles to rush to her like that, a stream of unpleasant scenarios unraveling in his head one after the other. 

 

 

Azazel had been as clueless as him when he returned, only telling him that Charles had assured him everything was fine and that he’d bring back the clothes to the agency later on. 

 

 

As if Erik cared for stupid clothes. 

 

 

He pushes back from his desk suddenly, grabbing his mug while getting up. He strides to the lounge to get some fresh coffee, utterly annoyed with himself for being annoyed about this whole thing in the first place. 

 

 

He shouldn’t give a fuck. 

 

 

He takes back his now full mug, the too harsh heat on his palm grounding him somewhat, feeling a little more ready to finish with those pictures. 

 

 

He goes back to his desk, and is about to sit back down again when his cellphone rings. His mind goes to Charles right away and he wastes no time grabbing it from his desk and turning it around to see the caller. He feels slightly disappointed when he sees his mother’s smiling face on the screen, the feeling immediately replaced by guilt and he shakes his head at how ridiculous he’s acting today before pressing the answer button and sitting back down behind his desk. 

 

 

“Yes Mama.” He says and hears giggles from the other end of the line. 

 

 

“I’m not your Mama, Papa!” he hears Pietro’s little voice tell him over the line and a soft smile draws on his lips, all tension from earlier washed away by his son’s words. 

 

 

“Who might you be then, little sir?” he asks him. 

 

 

“I’m Pietro!... And Wanda!” His twins shout happily in his ear making him wince slightly. 

 

 

“Oh, and how are Pietro and Wanda doing? Are they behaving?” 

 

 

“Yes!” comes the unified answer. “Are you coming back late from work today Papa?” Wanda’s little voice asks. 

 

 

“No, Sweetheart, I’ll be there for dinner.” 

 

 

“Yay! Grandma wants to talk to you! See you Papa!” she says and doesn’t even give him time to answer before he hears rustling over the line. 

 

 

“No running in the house!” his mother chides gently. “Hello Liebling.” 

 

 

“Hello Mama. Is everything alright with the frechdächse1?” he asks, always worried they might exhaust her. 

__

__

 

 

“Yes, everything is fine, they just wanted to talk to you a little. What about you? You sound tensed.” She asks and of course she’d notice, he thinks smiling a little. 

 

 

“It’s nothing, I just can’t seem to concentrate today.” He answers her not wanting to dive into details. 

 

 

“Humph… Why don’t you just call it a day and come back home early then? You’re your own boss after all, what’s the point if you don’t take advantage of it?” she says matter of factly and Erik chuckles. 

 

 

“I can’t, I have a small shooting planned in half an hour and I’m not taking advantage of my position, Mama, you raised me better than that.” He says teasingly making her chuckle over the line. “But I’ll get home right after.” 

 

 

“OK but don’t push yourself too hard. Work is just work. As much as you like what you do, it’s not worth ruining your health over it.” 

 

 

“Yes Mama, don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” 

 

 

“You better.” She threatens gently and he smiles again, feeling lucky to have such an amazing woman to call mom in his life. “see you later Liebling, love you.” 

 

 

“Love you too Mama” he answers and hangs up. 

 

 

He leans back in his chair looking at the ceiling. He lets his powers expand through the building around him, emptying his head, losing himself in the clean lines of the beams, the reinforcing bars buried in the walls and floor, the gentle hmm of the elevator, the soothing rhythm of the clock thrumming on his wall. 

 

 

He takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. He feels grounded, more at peace. He straightens up. The kids had called just when he needed it the most, he feels like his normal self again, ready to finish sorting through the pictures. 

 

 

He takes a sip of coffee and gets to work, his mind sharp and efficient. Thoughts of Charles not far but quickly dismissed. 

 

 

It takes him only 15 minutes to finish and forward the file to Emma. Once done, he finishes his coffee before striding to the studio. 

 

 

He only has a small session left, to reshoot with a few clothes as requested by one of the brand he works with. It shouldn’t last too long, Janos was one of the rare model he enjoyed working with. The man is nothing but professional, always on time, never whiny nor dramatic and a man of few words. He also has the added bonus of being a mutant and Erik is always happy to work with fellow mutants. 

 

 

He prepares his material, sets up the accessories he’ll need. Azazel has already dropped the items they’ll need for the shoot a little earlier. Now all that is needed is the man itself. It doesn’t take long for him to arrive and they start to work. 

 

 

___

 

 

Erik looks at his watch, they’ve managed to finish after a little over 45 minutes. Not bad. 

 

 

He takes the memory card from his camera before carefully putting it back in its case when he feels the man approach behind him, his steps betrayed by his belt buckle and the change in his pocket. He turns around and the man’s steps falter, looking a bit taken-off guard. 

 

 

He’s changed back into his own clothes and Erik has to admit that the man has a good sense of fashion. Between his shoulder-length messy hair, the hint of a shadow on his chin and his defined jaw, his low hanging jeans, his too large tank top hanging off of broad and perfectly defined shoulders and the silver bull skull hanging low around his neck, he’s the perfect embodiment of a sexy, modern bad boy. 

 

 

Janos is a beautiful man, a Mexican beauty as Angel would say and Erik has always loved to look at beautiful things. 

 

 

“Thanks again for agreeing to meet so fast, I know you’re very busy.” He tells the man, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he thinks of how pleased Charles would be by his manners quickly followed by a hint of annoyance that the man still managed to snuck up in his thoughts once again. “I’ll forward you the pics I’ve selected and keep you updated on the advancement.” He adds and the man smiles, nodding silently and stepping closer. 

 

 

“I’ll always make room for you, Erik. It’s always a pleasure to work with you, you know that.” Janos says grinning brightly, his light accent warming his words, before looking down at the floor and adding. “I wanted to ask you something actually. I mean… if you don’t mind.” he tells him almost hesitantly and Erik pauses, taken aback by his attitude and what could cause it. Janos never speaks much but when he does, it’s always confidently. 

 

 

“What is it?” Erik asks frowning slightly, wondering if he’ll have to deal with yet another problem he won’t be able to solve. 

 

 

He watches as the man looks straight up at him and smiles before striding forward, stepping in his personal space. He cups Erik’s jaw with one of his broad hand and kisses him. 

 

 

Erik is frozen for a few seconds before he kisses back, reaching out like a man taking a breath after being depraved of air for too long, the slide of lips and tongues so delectable after months spent in celibacy. Janos is a good kisser too, just on that side of rough and Erik can’t say that it leaves him indifferent. 

 

 

Janos pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, licking his lips made shiny with saliva. 

 

 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long… “he whispers, breath ghosting over Erik’s lips. “If you feel like grabbing a coffee sometimes or anything, I’d really love that. Think about it, ok?” he tells him before pecking him lightly on the lips, turning on his heels and leaving the studio. 

 

 

Erik stays unmoving for a few minutes, eyes riveted where the man has just disappeared through the door, thoughts churning in his head. He rubs his jaw then threads his fingers through his hair, mussing them. 

 

 

The offer is… tempting. 

 

 

While he isn’t someone who dates much, the prospect of dating Janos isn’t repulsive. It had been more than a year since he dated anyone seriously, things had ended up pretty badly and since then, he’s only ever had flings here and there. 

 

 

There was a beautiful man whose company and attitude he enjoyed, maybe things could work out between them if Erik gave them the chance, maybe they could work together. 

 

 

He closes up his studio then goes to his office, thoughts of Janos and their kiss still turning in his head, pondering the pros and cons, everything that could go well or terribly, so very tempted but also afraid to start something new so suddenly, thinking of his children and their well-being. 

 

 

He grabs his coat, wallet and keys, putting them in his pockets as he walks to his door when his phone rings in his jeans. He sighs, hesitating answering before grudgingly pulling it out with his powers and making it land in his hand, screen up. 

 

 

It’s Charles. 

 

 

Erik’s heartrate picks up slightly and he quickly slides his thumb on the screen to answer, bringing his phone to his ear. 

 

 

“Charles, hi.” 

 

 

“Hello, I hope I’m not disturbing you?” Charles asks ever so polite. 

 

 

“No, no. I was just closing up for the day.” He answers a genuine smile on his face. 

 

 

“Good, I won’t keep you long anyway. I wanted to apologize for leaving like this today and also thank you for helping with Mr. Azazel.” He says and Erik has to bite his lip not to say the first words that come to his mind. He wants to know what happened badly, but he’ll respect the man’s privacy. 

 

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. It would be pretty hypocritical of me to be mad, I did leave in a hurry too the first day we worked together.” He tells him before adding, “I hope everything is alright now.” Still worried for the man an, OK, a tiny bit trying to fish for information too. 

 

 

“Thank you, everything is fine now. Well…” there’s a moment of silence over the line where Charles seems to hesitate saying more and Erik holds his breath. “I… Nevermind. When are you free for me to return the clothes or if your not, when is Mr. Azazel free?” he asks, effectively changing the subject and Erik is torn between groaning in frustration and laughing at the Mr. Azazel part, picturing his friend’s face at being called that way. 

 

 

“Tomorrow, by the end of the afternoon if you’re free, around 5pm. I’ll show you what we’ve worked on so far too if you want, since we didn’t get the time to do so today.” 

 

 

“Oh, yes, I’d like that very much. If you don’t mind, can we say 5:30? I’ve got classes until 4:30 and I need time to drop by my place before coming to the studio.” 

 

 

“5:30pm it is then.” Erik agrees, smiling at the prospect of spending some time with the man again. 

 

 

“Perfect, thank you and sorry again for today. See you tomorrow then.” 

 

 

“Don’t worry about it, see you tomorrow Charles.” He says and hangs up. 

 

 

He closes his office, gets in his car and heads home, all the while thinking about Charles, any thoughts of Janos washed away by Charles’ gentle voice, the charming smile he could hear and picture over the line, the prospect of seeing the man again the next day. 

 

 

Erik is a patient man, he can wait until the next day to… get the clothes back. 

 

 

Yes, the clothes. 

 

 

___

 

 

Erik feels the headache coming. 

 

 

He took his morning off to spend time with the twins. Both of them have been pestering him for days to go to the toys store for days and he couldn’t resist them for too long, always happy to please them. 

 

 

But they’ve just spent an hour and half in said store, going in circle again and again in each section because Papa you need to see this, Papa isn’t this awesome?, Papa do they have the doll missing from our collection? Papa can we live in the store? And so on. 

 

 

His kids are full of life and happiness, he’s glad to have them and wouldn’t change a thing, but they have so much energy… Erik just wishes he could absorb some for himself sometimes. 

 

 

They’re in the car now, in search for a place to get breakfast, Pietro and Wanda playing and giggling in the backseat with the two new figurines he bought them, Flash for Pietro and Poison Ivy for Wanda. He feels like trying something new, craving something sweet but not really knowing what. 

 

 

He stops at a red light and looks around, his eyes catching on a restaurant’s store front. The colors and the disposition reminds him of the coffee shop where he met Charles. Remembering the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked food, the soft and relaxing atmosphere, he knows exactly where to go. 

 

 

He drives for ten minutes more, remembering where the coffee shop was situated easily. He parks his car not far from the store with the big windowpanes, several people sitting on the terrace in front, enjoying the soft weather, a few people coming in and out. Even on the outside, the Café looks cozy. 

 

 

“Alright, who’s ready for some breakfast?” he asks, taking off his seatbelt with his powers. 

 

 

“Meeee!!” Pietro and Wanda answer in unison. “Are we eating there? What’s written?” Wanda asks curious, pointing at the sign over the door. 

 

 

“Yes, we are. It’s written: _Chez Wolfie_.” Erik answers and sees Wanda scrunch up her nose in distaste while Pietro’s eyes go round as saucers. 

 

 

“What does that mean?” Wanda asks at the same time as Pietro asks “Are we going to eat at a werewolf’s?” and Erik chuckles. 

 

 

“It means _At Wolfie’s_ , it’s French and no Pietro, I don’t think there’s any werewolf around, but we never know, you might want to keep an eye out just to be safe.” 

 

 

They both are very excited as they get out of the car, looking suspiciously at the people around them and whispering loudly between them trying to guess who is a werewolf and who’s not. 

 

 

Erik smiles as he enters the shop, the smell hitting him hard and making his mouth water. They walk to the counter, the kids still absorbed in their guessing game, eyeing the cashier suspiciously. 

 

 

“Alright, what do you want? You can have hot cocoa milk or fresh juice, with a brioche, croissant, something like a croissant but with chocolate or dried grapes in it.” he asks them, tearing them from their musings. 

 

 

“If we eat what they sell here, does that mean we’ll turn into werewolves?” Pietro asks and before Erik has the time to answer, a gruff voice speaks behind them. 

 

 

“Only when you’ve grown, pup. But for that, you do need to eat good things, right?” 

 

 

It’s Howlett, with a plaque full of freshly baked croissants and pains au chocolat. Wanda and Pietro are looking at him with their mouth hanging open, staring up at him and Erik watches as they nod mutely at the man before them. 

 

 

“Then you just have to go tell Alex right there,” he says pointing to the cashier, “What you want and eat everything to grow big, alright?” Both kids nod again and the man turns his attention to Erik, nodding at him with a gruff “Lehnsherr.” Erik nods back politely, a little smirk tugging at his lips. 

 

 

So, there was a heart under that rough exterior. 

 

 

The man leaves behind the counter as they step to the cashier to give their order. The young blond man is very polite and friendly, charming further the twins with gentle coaxing and teasing. 

 

 

They’re soon seated near the windows, hot cocoa for the twins with pains au chocolat, while he has coffee and two croissants. 

 

 

They start to eat, the kids making good on their promise to Howlett, eating while giggling and talking animatedly. Erik smiles as he listens to them talk to length about their future lives as werewolves, shaking his head. He’ll be hearing about this for months. 

 

 

He gets up to get another coffee, warning the kids for them to stay put before getting in line. 

 

 

He gives his order then goes to wait on the side of the counter keeping an eye on the twins in the meantime when a voice catches his attention. He turns to the sound, and sure enough, taking his order and laughing with the cashier is Charles. 

 

 

He observes him from his position, the man fully absorbed in his conversation with the cashier and he can’t help but be captivated, remembering why this young man caught his attention in the first place. He looks at his ruffled hair, the casual way he’s leaning on the counter, his beautiful smile, so infectious, the passionate way he’s talking, eyes bright and hands helping making a point. 

 

 

Erik doesn’t think anyone could look at this man and not be entranced by his natural charm and charisma. 

 

 

He wants nothing more to call out to the man but doesn’t want to be rude so he waits patiently, waiting for an opportunity to catch the man’s eye and just then, the man turns and looks straight back at him. 

 

 

Erik feels like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, like he’s facing an incredible invisible force he’s powerless against. The sensation passes quickly and he smiles. 

 

 

“Charles.” 

 

 

“Mr. Lehnsherr, hi!” he answers, grinning. 

 

 

“Please, call me Erik, I feel like an old man when you call me Mr.” he tells him jokingly. 

 

 

“That’s probably because you are.” Comes the gruff voice of Howlett behind the counter and Erik rolls his eyes, not even glancing his way. 

 

 

“Logan…” Charles says looking at the man with a soft smile on his lips, eyes full of mirth. Howlett only snort in answer before turning the other way and disappearing in the back of the Café. 

 

 

The man behind the counter, Alex if Erik remembers correctly, gives Erik and Charles their orders and Erik hesitates for a second before making his decision. 

 

 

“Would come sit with us?” he asks hopeful. 

 

 

“Us?” Charles remarks, looking confused before Erik gestures to the table where the twins are eating. Charles grins and nods before adding, “Lead the way.” 

 

 

They walk to the table and two sets of eyes settle like hawks on Charles. Erik will have to remind them once again not to stare at people like they have two heads. 

 

 

“Wanda, Pietro, this is Charles. He’s one of the models who works with me.” He tells them as Charles waves at them. They both look at him a little longer before Pietro asks. 

 

 

“Are you a werewolf model?” Charles is taken aback for a moment, throwing a glance Erik’s way, a twinkle in his eyes before he smiles back at the twin. 

 

 

“I’m afraid not, I’m not hairy enough. I’m just a model, and just very recently at that. Is this a werewolf table only?” Wanda giggles behind her small hands and Pietro shakes his head. 

 

 

“We’re not big enough yet!” he tells Charles proudly as Erik takes his seat and gestures for Charles to do the same. Wanda is staring at Charles intently and Erik frowns slightly, snapping his fingers in front of her face a couple of times to catch her attention. 

 

 

“What did we say about staring at people?” he asks and Wanda lowers her eyes to look at her plate before answering sulkily. 

 

 

“It’s impolite and it can make people feel uncomfortable. Sorry.” She mumbles. 

 

 

“No worries my dear.” Charles answers before turning to Erik and whispering conspiratorially “So you do have some manners.” 

 

 

Erik snorts and picks up his coffee to take a sip. They all eat while Charles talks animatedly with the twins and Erik is just happy to watch them. Charles looks very comfortable around children, looking as excited as them sometimes. 

 

 

They’re currently talking about their favorite animals when Wanda elbows her brother and they both look in the counter’s direction, fully engrossed in their observation, having completely forgotten Charles. 

 

 

Erik looks and sees Howlett arranging pastries at the counter. Charles is watching too and he looks like he wants to laugh for a moment before taking a sip of his tea. Just then Howlett looks up in their directions making the twins gasp and turn to their plates hurriedly, pretending like they’re fully engrossed in their breakfast. 

 

 

“Did you find a werewolf?” Charles whispers conspiratorially after bending forward towards them. They both nod in unison, eyes round and Charles adds “Do you know that he has metal claws?” he tells them making them gasp, the both of them covering their mouth in shock but obviously very excited by the information. 

 

 

Erik is taken aback, looking at Charles in wonder. He had sensed said metal claws on the man but he hadn’t thought Charles would know or talk so openly about someone else’s mutation. How close really are those two? 

 

 

“But werewolves don’t have metals on their claws!” Pietro whispers back. 

 

 

“That’s because he’s a mutant werewolf.” Charles says even lower. 

 

 

“REALLY?!” They both exclaim excitedly and now Erik knows he’ll hear about Howlett day and nights and he sighs inwardly. 

 

 

“Yes, really. Do you like mutants?” Charles asks them throwing him a glance with a blinding smile. Both twins nods and look at him, hope filling their big eyes. He nods at them, knowing full well the question they were not voicing and they whisper loudly back at Charles. 

 

 

“Papa and us are mutants too! I’m very very fast.” Pietro says proudly and Erik has to grin, feeling very proud too. 

 

 

“I can make dreams!” Wanda adds. Erik looks at Charles and he’s beaming at them, obviously very excited by their revelation and he starts to think Charles might be one of these mutants' fans. Humans who are very supportive of their cause and would give an arm to be like them. 

 

 

“This is wonderful! If your Papa allows it, you’ll have to show me your powers someday.” He tells them grinning widely. The twins nod, Pietro is almost vibrating in his seat, ready to jump off. 

 

 

“Alright, alright, but we’re in the middle of a restaurant, no powers in pu-” 

 

 

“Fucking freaks!” A man interrupts loudly. All eyes at their table turn to look at him. 

 

 

He’s young, probably a student, looking at them with disgust painted clear on his face and Erik grips the edge of the table tightly to try to not smash it over the man’s stupid head right then and there. 

 

 

“What did you just say?!” he asks dangerously. The man hesitates then puffs out his chest as if trying to grow bigger in his seat to scare Erik away. 

 

 

“Mutants are all freaks, you should all be locked away like the monsters you are.” He sneers. Erik is out of his chair and moving forward before he even thinks about it. Someone holds onto his arm to prevent him to go forward and he’s ready to shove them off when he hears Charles’ voice next to him. 

 

 

“Erik.” His tone is grave, so at odds with his usual cheerful self that Erik stops in his tracks to look at him. He watches as he steps forward, face dark, gaze unwavering fixed on the man. He looks so much older then, so much somber. 

 

 

“Your hate has no place here. There are children and they don’t need your ignorance.” He says. 

 

 

“You’re with them.” The man says with a disgusted rictus, “You’re as much of a scum.” he adds, spitting on the floor and Charles chuckles coldly. 

 

 

“I think you misunderstood something my friend. I’m not with them, I’m part of them.” He states. Erik’s eyes widen and he looks at him, dumbfounded, trying to gauge if he’s just bluffing or if he's saying the truth. 

 

 

“What’s going on here?!” Howlett’s voice booms behind them as he comes to stand just in front of Charles, standing tall and ready to pounce. And as much as Erik despise the man, he’s glad he’s on their side. 

 

 

Charles mimics his earlier gesture and grabs onto Howlett’s arm, they exchange a look then Howlett crosses his arms over his chest with a sour look on his face, stepping back. He still throws a challenging look the man’s way and Erik can see three sharp metal blades extend from his knuckles from where he stands. Charles seems amused by this obvious intimidation attempt and turns back to the man who’s staring at the dangerous looking blades with slightly less confidence. 

 

 

“You’re going to take your bag, apologize and leave.” Charles states calmly in the dead silence of the Café. 

 

 

The man looks at him and laughs. 

 

 

“Oh, you think you can make me? Feeling big with your buddy next to you, aren’t you?!” He scoffs and Erik is ready to murder him. The chair behind him trembles and only the grip Charles has on his arm tightening slightly prevents him from throwing it through the room. 

 

 

“Oh, yes I can and I will. Take your bag, apologize and leave.” 

 

 

Charles’ tone is chilling, a dangerous edge to his words that sends a cold shiver down Erik’s spine. A dark shadow seems to envelope the entire room, all eyes are fixed on Charles. He’s like an unmovable force in the middle of a storm, no one even dares to breathe. 

 

 

Erik tears his eyes from Charles to look at the man. His eyes are on Charles but look unseeing, almost dead, he doesn’t move, like trapped in time, unable to escape. Suddenly he blinks and fear engulf his gaze fully, he staggers back as if punched, all his bravado gone. He rushes to get his bag mumbling “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again before dashing to the door and leaving not even looking back. 

 

 

Erik is staring at the door in awe, wondering what the hell just happened. He looks back at Charles, the question on the tip of his tongue but the words die in his throat at the sight before him. Charles looks so fierce right then, frowning, mouth pinched in distaste, bright blue eyes burning with cold fury. 

 

 

Howlett drops a big hand on his shoulder and the anger is washed away, Charles just looks lost then, like a small child with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Howlett just brings his hand to Charles’ head and ruffles his hair affectionately, grinning at him. Charles gives him a tiny smile in answer, not even a shadow of his usual bright ones when a gust of air breezes between them and Erik sees Pietro jump up and down in front of Charles. Wanda joins him at her own pace and both of them shout at the same time. 

 

 

“Charles, you were so cool!! Did you make the bad man leave?! Did you use your powers?! Can you show us?” they both ask one question over the other and it seems like it’s enough to snap Charles out of his funky mood. He looks at them and his bright blinding smile is back. 

 

 

“It’s just a little trick but you, my little friend, are incredibly fast! I barely saw you when you ran just now!” He tells Pietro, kneeling to his level, smoothly changing the subject, Erik notes. Pietro starts jumping even faster. 

 

 

“Pietro, calm down, we’re still in the Café, not home.” Erik intervenes, not wanting his tiny tornado of a son to ruin the restaurant because of his excitement. Pietro just nods, almost vibrating in place and Charles looks up at Erik, bright eyes trapping him under their weight. So many emotions pass through them then, Erik can’t even begin to decipher them. 

 

 

They stare at each other for what feels like hours when a tiny voice breaks the moment. Erik looks down to Wanda tugging on Howlett’s pants’ leg. 

 

 

“Aren’t your werewolf mutant claws too painful when they come out?” 

 

 

Erik watches as Howlett mimics Charles and goes down on one knee in front of the twins, both of their set of eyes rounds with wonder. 

 

 

“Just a little bit, but never for long.” He tells them, extending his claws to their full length to the appreciative ohhhs of Erik’s children and then retracting them to allow them to see his healing skin. “See, my mutant abilities allow me to heal very quickly, so, it’s no big deal.” He explains further. 

 

 

If stars could pop up from his kids’ eyes, Howlett would be starrier than the night right now and Erik cringes at the thought of how much he’ll hear about Howlett in the near future. 

 

 

Charles chuckles next to him, making Erik smile in turn. 

 

 

“Alright, enough intrusive questions for today, we have to go home now, or grandma will be mad if we don’t come back in time.” 

 

 

The twins nod and run to get their coats and Erik turns to Charles. 

 

 

“Well, I don’t know what you did to that bastard but thank you.” He tells him genuinely grateful and a very curious about the nature of his abilities. 

 

 

“Please, it was nothing. I’m glad I could help without anyone getting hurt.” Erik nods in answer, a fond smile stretching his lips. It seems he won’t have answers about Charles’ powers for now. 

 

 

The twins come back to him with his jacket in hand. He takes it and puts it on. 

 

 

“Say goodbye to Charles and Mr. Howlett then we’ll go.” Both kids throw themselves at Charles who pats their shoulders gently. They let go to wave at Howlett who simply nods at them before they come back to Erik’s side. 

 

 

Erik looks at Charles before adding: 

 

 

“I’ll see you this afternoon then.” 

 

 

“I’ll be there.” Charles answers smiling. Erik is about to speak when Howlett hawks loudly behind them. Erik just glares at him wishing he could just turn the man into a big metal ball if it wouldn’t bring the ire of his children and probably Charles too. 

 

 

Charles waves at them and they turn to leave. 

 

 

They get back to the car, the twins talking excitedly about Howlett and how they’d like to have the same metal claws as him when they’re grown up werewolves. Erik is only half listening, his thoughts full of Charles and his entrancing blue eyes. Wondering if the day they met, somehow, Charles hadn’t bewitched him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: Cheeky monkeys in German (Thanks to Valentin for the help with the language! :D) Back
> 
> Don't worry about the Janos/Erik part, it'll stay very minor


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What?! A chapter not even a month apart from the last one?!  
> Apparently, it happens, yes. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Charles looks at his watch as he steps off of the bus on the sidewalk of the busy street. Yes, he’s thirty minutes early for his appointment with Erik. 

 

 

His classes had finished earlier than planned today, so he had headed home early to get the clothes from the shoot he had left folded on his bed and had quickly fled the place before he getting unlucky enough to cross Kurt’s path before the man left for his business trip. 

 

 

That’s the last thing he wanted. The less he sees his stepfather, the better off he is. 

 

 

He starts walking slowly towards Genosha’s studios, taking his time, looking around at the various shops and buildings of the busy streets, enjoying the different architecture mixing around in the neighborhood, basking in the feeling of hundreds and hundreds of minds buzzing around in his head like a giant anthill. 

 

 

The feeling used to be suffocating, thoughts weighing heavily on his young mind, omnipresent and oppressing, but he grew up and learned. They were part of him and his mutation, they were many and loud yes, but when you’re stuck in a too strong current, isn’t it easier to let go and let it carry you rather than fight? 

 

 

It’s all white noise now, part of the world buzzing about. And, Charles would probably feel lost and empty without it now, like deprived of one of his senses. 

 

 

Soon, he stands in front of the building, he pushes the door and walks in. Angel looks up from her papers to welcome him with a cheerful smile lighting up her pretty face. 

 

 

“Hello Charles! So excited to see me that you came in early?” She says cheekily, making Charles smile brightly back at her. 

 

 

“Ah, you’ve seen right through me, darling! I could never stay away from such a pretty face for too long.” He tells her, bringing his hand to his chest making her laugh. 

 

 

“Ahh, you’re always saying the sweetest things. My heart has no chance of ever resisting your charms.” She tells him, eyes and mind sparkling with good humor. 

 

 

“That’s because my heart has already been stolen by the sweetest being.” He retorts not missing a beat, winking teasingly at her, feeling the mirth pour from her mind in waves. 

 

 

“You’re such a sweet talker.” She answers him laughing, “Get out of here before I start to take you seriously.” She adds, swatting playfully at his arm. He raises his hands in surrender, stepping back from the round desk. 

 

 

“I can recognize when I’m not wanted, I’ll be licking my wounds in a corner. I may never recover.” He throws, walking backwards, both hands cupped over his heart dramatically. She just laughs heartily, shaking her head at his antics. 

 

 

“You’re terrible!” She throws him just before he disappears around the corner to start climbing the stairs. He’s grinning from ear to ear, Angel’s good-natured personality and laugh contagious, still lingering at the edges of his mind. 

 

 

He arrives on the third floor, and walks to the door of Erik’s office that stands half opened, a small smile still stretching his lips. He knocks and waits. When no answer comes, he quickly opens his mind the tiniest bit to find that no one is in the office but he can feel the bright and neat spark of Erik’s mind in the studio with another, foreign one. 

 

 

He quickly reigns his powers in, not wanting to slip and dive into that too tempting mind and starts walking in the direction of the studio. Erik is probably finishing another shoot and Charles is curious to see if can stay to watch the man work. Not that he hasn’t seen him working, but it would be interesting to see him from another perspective this time around. Only be the spectator and not part of it. 

 

 

He pushes the door open and stops dead in his tracks. 

 

 

Erik is well and truly there with another person. 

 

 

Erik has his back to the wall of the changing room, the unknown man holding him pinned there, hands folded possessively over his chest as they kiss. 

 

 

Charles stays frozen on the spot, staring, an avalanche of emotions devastating his mind. 

 

 

He quickly snaps out of it and closes the glass door as silently as possible behind him as he walks back where he came from. When he’s gone down the first flight of stairs in between the third and second floor, he slumps, sitting down on the lowest step, dropping his head in his hands. 

 

 

How could he have flirted so casually with the man, thinking he was flirting back? Erik was obviously very much taken. How could he even think for one minute that Erik had been interested in him of all people while he spent all his time surrounded by the most beautiful men and women walking Earth? 

 

 

God, he had been so stupid. 

 

 

He lets his hands fall, his head dropping backwards to look at the ceiling and lets out a deep sigh. 

 

 

It’s not the first, nor will it be the last time Charles had hoped for something and had seen it come crashing down in front of him. 

 

 

He should look on the bright side, at least he was sure now that Erik liked men too. That was better than nothing, he thinks snorting. 

 

 

He’ll wait downstairs with Angel until they were both... done with their business. One eyeful had been enough for him, thank you very much! 

 

 

He stands up and continues down the stairs until he’s back in the lobby. Angel hears him right away and her eyebrows raise at the sight of him. 

 

 

“Done already? I thought you had another shooting planned today?” she asks, confused. 

 

 

“We do. Erik isn’t done yet with his previous one so I came here to see if I could charm you into telling me where I could get a tea while I wait.” He explains, smiling brightly at her, hoping none of the turmoil churning in his mind shines through his facade. 

 

 

“Ah, Janos.” She answers with an air of disdain. “Well, you’re in luck Charles, I can actually get you the tea.” She tells him getting up. 

 

 

“You’re my savior, Angel.” He answers genuinely relieved for her presence at his side. 

 

 

She brings him a mug of steaming tea and he takes it, letting the heat seep in his bones and inhaling deeply, the soft aroma soothing his fraying nerves. 

 

 

“Do you need me to help you with anything?” Charles asks, wanting to occupy himself and not just replay the scene he had witnessed over and over in his head. 

 

 

“What? No! You’re not doing any of my work!” she exclaims like the idea was ridiculous. 

 

 

“Please, I don’t like to sit by while others work. I’d be happy to help.” He tells her, trying to give her his best puppy impression. 

 

 

“No. You are forbidden to give me the puppy eyes!” she tells him, pointing a menacing finger at him, which only serves to make him give her an even more pitiful expression. “I will call Emma and she will make sure you cannot make such an expression! Ever.” she threatens and Charles can’t hold on anymore and laughs. 

 

 

“You do remember that I’m a telepath too, right? She’d have to fight against me for it to work.” He tells her, gulping down some warm tea. 

 

 

“Oh, really? How does that work actually? Is it the biggest brain that wins or just the most powerful one or is it more like a battle of will?” she asks him, just as they hear the telltale noise of feet come down the stairs behind them. 

 

 

They both turn to see the man who was with Erik enter the lobby, a smug smile plastered on his stupidly beautiful face. 

 

 

Yes, Charles never stood a chance, he thinks bitterly. 

 

 

The man turns to look at Angel, his smile growing larger. 

 

 

“Hasta la próxima, mi ángel1.” He tells her before throwing a glance Charles’ way, his mind taking on a darkest gleeful hue. 

 

 

“Yeah, go to hell, Janos.” She mumbles, glaring at him while the man exits the building and Charles can’t hold back a snort. She turns to look at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes and a shit eating grin. 

 

 

“Alright, I think you’re good to go.” She tells him and he nods, taking a few more mouthful of tea before handing his cup back to her. 

 

 

“Thanks Angel.” He tells her before heading to the stairs once again, a tight knot twisting his stomach unpleasantly and leaving a bitter taste in his mouth for the first time at the prospect of seeing Erik. 

 

 

This time, the man is in his office when he gets there, the door opening by itself in front of him just when he is about to knock. 

 

 

“Come in Charles.” Comes the voice and Charles takes a deep breath before stepping into the room. 

 

 

“Hello again.” Charles says, Erik nodding in answer. 

 

 

He steps into the room fully, taking off his backpack to take out the clothes he had brought back with him. He walks close to Erik’s desk and hands him the garments neatly folded. 

 

 

“Here, before I forget to give them back.” He says, Erik nods extending his hands to take them from him thanking him. 

 

 

“Before we start, do you want to see some of your pictures before something else interrupts us?” Erik asks him smiling with good humor. Charles smiles in return, but it’s a small thing, only nodding in ascent, the memory of the kiss still too fresh in Charles’ mind to really enjoy the joke. 

 

 

“Perfect, let me grab you a chair.” Erik says extending his arm, the chair sitting in a corner of his office floating in the air. Charles watches captivated as it starts moving towards them and settles neatly right next to Erik’s own without the slightest sound. 

 

 

This time, his smile comes as naturally as breathing as he looks down at Erik. 

 

 

“I think I could watch you use your powers all day, it’s amazing.” He tells him and Erik grins proudly. 

 

 

“It’s just a little trick.” He says before adding, “Take off your coat and sit down. It won’t be long but it won’t take two minutes either, I don’t want you to faint from being too warm.” Erik tells him and Charles shakes his head despite himself, snorting. He takes off his coat and draps it over the back of the chair. 

 

 

“Please, I’m not that fragile.” He states simply, not feeling like throwing himself in their usual banter, sitting down, realizing just then how close the two chairs were actually situated. He feels his cheek redden slightly before fighting the feeling down. 

 

 

There was nothing to read from this. 

 

 

He looks at Erik expectantly, waiting for him to start. Erik observes him for a second too long, his brows slightly furrowed before turning back to his screen and Charles wishes he was someone less scrupulous and could just dive into Erik’s mind to know what the man was thinking right then. 

 

 

“I’ve already went through the pictures and selected some of what I think are the best. With the ones I’ll select after today’s cession, I think we’ll have enough material to send to Prada for their approval.” He explains and Charles suddenly feels the familiar sentiment of failure twists viciously in his stomach. The words of his stepfather resonating in his mind as clearly as if the man was in front of him. 

 

 

 _Useless, loser, trash_

 

 

We won’t be surprised when the negative answer comes back at least. 

 

 

He’s torn out from the swirl of his dark thoughts by Erik clicking away on his mouse. 

 

 

“Don’t hesitate to share your thoughts. Just keep in mind that I am in no way, obligated to take them into account considering your sense of fashion.” He tells Charles, grinning at his own joke and Charles huffs. 

 

 

“Ass.” He says shaking his head, a small smile drawing the corners of his mouth up before looking back at the screen as the man clicks on various folders to find the right one. 

 

 

No matter how bitter the thought, Charles still enjoys Erik’s company too much. 

 

 

Erik opens the good file with a little “ah!” and he quickly starts to scroll through the selected pictures one by one. Charles finds himself staring mouth hanging half opened. 

 

 

Is this really him? 

 

 

If Charles had doubts before, he doesn’t anymore, Erik is an amazing photographer. 

 

 

Each photograph is tasteful, putting each cloth in display boldly and elegantly, the angles Erik chose playing with the lights and the pose to catch the eye make the audience want to stare. And with each new picture appearing on the screen, Charles is struck by his own face. 

 

 

He looks at the pictures and sees a young, carefree and pretty good looking man. The hair and clothes help to change his overall appearance but not by much. What strikes Charles the most is his gaze. 

 

 

Each shot brings forth his eyes so strongly, the blue vibrant, even through the few black and white photographs, they look like windows to a brand new world. Charles doesn’t look like he has much to worry about, he looks happy. 

 

 

He looks free. 

 

 

The feeling becomes stronger as Erik starts to scroll through close-up shots. The clothes are barely visible, Charles’ face the sole focus of the lens. 

 

 

He looks so lost in his own world then, older somehow, his eyes reflecting myriads of untold stories and it feels like a punch to the gut, like Erik’s eye laid him bare for everyone to see. 

 

 

He feels naked and shaken, more than he ever thought he could. 

 

 

When the last picture sits on the screen, Erik turns looking at him expectantly. 

 

 

“What do you think?” 

 

 

“I… You’re talented. I can tell you that much. I barely recognize myself.” Charles tells him honestly, making Erik chuckle. 

 

 

“I can assure you that’s it’s 100% you, but thank you for the compliment.” He says grinning like the cat that got the cream. “I have your approval then? We’re continuing this?” he adds almost hesitantly and Charles smiles a little before nodding. 

 

 

“We are.” 

 

 

“Good. Then let’s go to the studio and get to work.” he says getting up, Charles following suit, his happiness at Erik’s excitement falling from his face at the mention of the studio, the memory of the kiss coming back to the front of his mind, making his stomach twist unpleasantly. 

 

 

Nothing to be done about it. He had to push through this and just be happy to spend time with Erik. 

 

 

Maybe with time, they could become friends. 

 

 

They walk to the studio in silence and head to the dressing area. Erik quickly sorts through the clothes that Azazel had probably prepared for them beforehand. He drops a long sleeved kaki shirt and dark worn out jeans on the table then turns back to him. 

 

 

“Azazel is not here this afternoon so you’ll have to do with me alone. I’ll let you dress while I check my material then I’ll take care of your hair if that’s OK with you?” Charles acquiesces, not wanting to think of Erik’s hands threading through his hair yet, grabbing the shirt from the table to occupy himself. 

 

 

Erik leaves and Charles takes off his sweater and shirt, then quickly puts the long sleeved shirt on, his pants are next to put on the jeans. He’s just finished passing on and buckling the belt when Erik comes back in the small room. 

 

 

“You can put on the shoes next to the chair while I pick a few accessories.” Erik tells him pointing at a pair of black boots sitting in the corner. 

 

 

He sits on the chair and put the shoes on. Just when he’s about to tie the laces up, Erik drops on his knees in front of him, putting his hand over his, stopping him. 

 

 

Charles’ heart lurches in his chest, feeling his neck grow hot, looking down at Erik in confusion. 

 

 

“I want to give a messy impression, so we’re leaving them only half tied.” He explains, taking hold of Charles’ left foot and putting it on his thigh to start doing the laces only halfway up. He then arranges the buckles and the top of the boot to his liking then puts Charles’ foot back down on the floor before lacing up the other boot. 

 

 

Charles’ heart is hammering in his chest, the flush creeping up all the way to his hairline. He looks at those slender hands and wishes they would let go of the shoes, that they would cradle his ankle gently before slowly crawling up his leg to – 

 

 

He lets out a slow breath silently, chasing the thoughts away. No need to fantasize over something that would never happen. 

 

 

Erik lifts up his head then and looks directly at him. His eyes this close are so intense, so clear. Charles feels like he could plunge into them and let himself drown into their icy depths, the thought leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. 

 

 

“There.” Erik says, getting up to grab a few accessories from the desk. Charles takes advantage of the fact that Erik can’t see him to shake his head vigorously before getting himself under control then getting up to approach the table. 

 

 

Erik turns and shows him a large black leather bracelet. 

 

 

“Can I?” he asks him gesturing for his hand. Charles nods, knowing full well he would regret the touch of the man but craving it nonetheless. 

 

 

It seems like the universe had decided to test his limits today and Charles feels like his heart will burst before the hour is over. 

 

 

Erik takes his arm and buckles the bracelet on it with quick efficient motions, adjusting it to his liking. Once it’s done, he takes a necklace from the table and hands it to him. Charles feels a soft smile tug at his lips when he sees the dog tags. 

 

 

It reminds him of authentic and much older ones. Ones that had seen war. Ones he used to play with when he was a child, his mind plagued with nightmares and thoughts not his own. Ones warm over the sound of a strong beating heart lulling him back into dreamless sleep. 

 

 

He puts them around his neck then looks up at Erik. The man is staring at him, an odd expression on his face and Charles once again, feels himself wanting nothing more than to open the dam that holds his powers back and dive into the calm sea that is Erik’s mind. 

 

 

“Are you OK, Charles? You look a bit out of it today.” the man asks and Charles feels himself smile in spite of himself, touched that Erik had noticed something wasn’t right. He couldn’t let the man see his hurt and know of his crushed foolish hopes though. 

 

 

“I’m alright, thank you my friend. Just a little bit tired, that’s all.” Erik seems to think for a moment before he nods, thankfully not prodding more and Charles sighs in relief. 

 

 

“Let me arrange your hair and your shirt a little then we’ll start.” Charles nods again, and grinds his teeth as Erik starts to comb his hair with his fingers, adding a bit of wax for them to hold. 

 

 

Charles has always had a very sensitive scalp, had always enjoyed when his partners threaded their hand through his hair and Erik’s careful and precise motions were sending delectable shivers down Charles’ spine. 

 

 

He will definitely not survive today. 

 

 

Erik styles his hair to the side, not too neat but not too messy either. Then he gently grasps one of his arm to lift up his sleeve to fall just under his elbow, then does the same on the other side. He then tucks a small part of the shirt in his belt, just enough to show off the buckle he’s wearing. He takes a step back to look at his handiwork and seems satisfied with what he sees. 

 

 

“OK, let’s start.” Erik tells him, striding out of the changing room. Charles follows after him silently, looking at the set Erik had put up. 

 

 

There are fake walls with wooden panels and old pipes stuck to them in dark browns, and greys. There’s what looks like an old console set against the fake wall and a chair on the side. It looks like an old abandoned house, left unused for years and Charles is impressed by how good it looks. 

 

 

He stops next to the chair, looking back at Erik to wait for instructions, startling when he sees the man right there next to him when he turns. He stumbles back, his foot catching in the chair and feels himself start to fall when strong hands size his arms and a strange force holds onto his belt buckle. Probably Erik’s powers, his mind supplies. 

 

 

It feels strange to say the least, and Charles focuses on that invisible force rather than the thin hands encircling his biceps securely. 

 

 

“Are you alright?” the man asks for the second time today and Charles nods, righting himself up. 

 

 

“Yes, thanks to you. The chair wants my demise. ” He answers smiling, joking to hide his embarrassment, looking up to Erik’s too close face, still holding him. “I’m good.” He adds and Erik finally let’s go of his arms. 

 

 

“Right.” He says, walking around Charles to arrange the chair right in front of the table, placing it diagonally, like it had been left there after someone had stood up abruptly. “You’re going to sit on the table and put your feet up on the chair.” He instructs before walking back behind his camera. 

 

 

Charles does as he’s told, climbing on the chair to sit on the table. He leans his arms on his thighs and lets them dangle in front of him, looking straight back at Erik. 

 

 

“Perfect !” the man exclaims starting to click away furiously at his camera. 

 

 

Charles feels the tension bleed away from his muscles, losing himself in the clinking of the shutter and the sharp focus he can feel radiating from Erik even through his barriers. Erik doesn’t tell him how to move nor act, Charles just does what feels right and Erik clicks away. 

 

 

He’s completely immersed in their work, loosing track of time. He looks here and there to come back to settle on Erik’s gaze trained on him like a hawk, his jaw set, looking ever so serious. Erik feels like his anchor. 

 

 

He moves, smiles, looks up or down, always to come back to Erik. 

 

 

Always Erik. 

 

 

“Do you smoke, Charles?” Erik asks suddenly, looking up from his camera, tearing Charles from his trance like state, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead at the random question. 

 

 

“No, I don’t. Why?” he answers him, genuinely curious. Erik clicks a few times at his camera before looking up and answering. 

 

 

“Just something I was thinking about to add for the shoot. It could look good if you were holding a cigarette, the smoke would look perfect with the atmosphere, but you’re not a smoker, forget it.” 

 

 

Charles doesn’t answer right away, thinking, amused that Erik wouldn’t even ask for his opinion on the matter. 

 

 

“I could.” He answers and when he sees Erik’s eyes grow big and frown, he adds quickly, “I mean, not actually smoke, that’s a disgusting habit but if it’s just holding a cigarette, I wouldn’t mind.” He tells him, smiling a little more at Erik’s surprised expression. 

 

 

“Are you sure?” 

 

 

“Yes, really.” He confirms. 

 

 

“Just give me a minute then.” Erik tells him before striding out of the studio. He comes back quickly, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in one hand. 

 

 

He takes one out as he comes to stand next to the chair where Charles’ feet still rest and Charles watches these slender fingers hold the cigarette as Erik brings it to his lips and lights it up, inhaling deeply and Charles has never felt so jealous of a stupid cigarette before. 

 

 

Erik exhales and hands him the cigarette, Charles takes it, holding it between two fingers as Erik walks back behind his camera. 

 

 

“Alright, look down on the side, just pretend you just took a drag.” Erik tells him and Charles obeys, looking down through the rivulets of smoke at the floor while Erik takes pictures after pictures2. The sight is mesmerizing and soon, Charles is once again lost to the now familiar motions and sounds, his emotions dulled little by little. 

 

 

The rest of the shoot continues smoothly, and for once, they manage to get through it without any outside inconvenience interrupting them. 

 

 

Charles is getting up from the chair he was lounging in when they both hear quick tapping noises coming their way. They both turn at the same time to see a little bundle sprint through the studio to jump in Erik’s arms. 

 

 

“Oof! Pietro! You’re going to make me fall over one day.” Erik reprimands, a soft smile betraying his words. “Where is grandma?” 

 

 

“She’s coming with Wanda, she said I could go ahead of them.” Pietro’s little voice answers him. Just then, Wanda opens the door and runs to her father, circling his leg with her tiny arms. Charles can’t hold back the grin stretching his lips as he takes in the happy family reunion. 

 

 

Charles eyes are drawn to the door that opens once more as a woman enters the studio. She’s probably around 65, almost as tall and slender as Erik. She looks elegant and radiates a serene impression and as she smiles at the family before her, Charles is struck by how soft and gentle this woman looks. 

 

 

She turns her head to look at him then, clear eyes making Charles feel very small as she approaches him and extends her hand for him to shake, her hand thin and bony in his but her grip strong, firm and warm. 

 

 

“Hello, I’m Eddie, Erik’s mother.” She introduces herself smiling warmly at him making Charles smile brightly back at her. 

 

 

“Hello Madam, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He answers automatically, his manners drilled into him when he was young, taking over. “I’m Charles. I work with Erik.” 

 

 

“Oh, you’re the new model he found in a coffee shop, right?” she asks, her accent strong and endearing. 

 

 

“I am, yes. I’m still not sure how he thought I was model material but I’m glad to be here.” He says, jokingly. 

 

 

“Now, now. No self depreciation in this house. You’re a lovely young man with beautiful eyes full of life, of course Erik would notice you.” She tells him, her smile taking on a softer edge and Charles feels himself reddening under such straightforward gentle words. 

 

 

He’s struck by how much Erik looks like his mother then. They share the same face shape, the same quirk of the lips and the same intense clear blue eyes. The only difference Charles can spot is where Erik is all sharp angles and hard lines, Eddie is only softness. 

 

 

“Thank you.” He says. 

 

 

“Charles!!!” Both Pietro and Wanda shout, finally noticing him after letting go of their father. They rush towards him and each of them hug one of his legs. Charles smiles fondly down at them, patting their shoulders. 

 

 

“Hello again.” 

 

 

“Charles, Charles !! Can you show us your power? Please, please, please?!” Pietro asks excitedly letting go of him, jumping up and down and Charles can’t hold back the little laugh escaping him, being suddenly reminded of Raven as a little girl, when she used to love when he showed off his powers. 

 

 

“Pietro, that’s not polite to ask others to demonstrate their powers, it can make them uncomfortable.” Eddie reprimands gently, making Pietro pout and look down at the floor. 

 

 

“Sorry Charles.” He says dejectedly, Wanda looking as disappointed as him. 

 

 

“It’s alright, I would love to show you what I can do but only if your father agrees.” Charles says, looking up at Erik in askance and Erik nods. Both Wanda and Pietro jump happily looking at Charles with barely restrained impatience. Charles kneels in front of them and look at their little faces. 

 

 

“I will bring my fingers to my temple then you will feel a strange sensation in your heads. I don’t want you to be afraid when it happens.” He starts to explain. 

 

 

“Is it like the cold with Emma?” Wanda asks. 

 

 

“Yes, exactly like that. Should I show you now?” he asks and they nod at the same time. Charles looks up once more to Erik, wanting to make sure the man is still OK with this, knowing too well how much even mutants were afraid of telepaths. 

 

 

Charles is almost afraid to let down is barriers enough for his powers to trickle out, afraid to feel the all too familiar repulsion radiate from Erik’s mind. 

 

 

When Erik nods, Charles lowers his barriers just a little, inhaling like a man deprived of air as the minds surrounding him become that much brighter. 

 

 

He smiles in relief when he feels only deep curiosity come from Erik’s mind and his mother’s. He looks at the twins then, their minds radiating so much excitement and shining so purely. 

 

 

He brings his fingers to his temple, not really needing this old trick of his but only fearing for the children’s comfort. He follows their bright little minds then and lets a tiny bit of his power slip in, just enough to be able to talk to them. 

 

 

He relishes in the sensation of their bright little minds, so similar yet different, Pietro’s running a mile a minute, while Wanda’s feels more misty. They both feel like paintings in vibrant colors, like a bright tinkling laugh. Nothing tainted or dark, full of happiness. 

 

 

“ _Can you hear me?_ ” he asks and they both gasp. 

 

 

“Charles, you’re so warm !” Wanda exclaims with a huge smile on her little face, Pietro nodding next to her. 

 

 

“Am I?” he asks, genuinely curious. Pietro nods his little head harder before answering. 

 

 

“Yes! When Emma talks in our heads, it’s like when we go in the shower and Papa forgets to turn on the hot water, but when it’s you, it’s like in summer!” Wanda nods in agreement and Charles feels his smile grow even fonder for these two little ones, oddly touched. 

 

 

“I didn’t know that. Thank you for telling me.” He tells them honestly and Wanda frowns. 

 

 

“But it’s your power!” she answers almost indignant making Charles chuckle. 

 

 

“Yes, but I don’t feel it the way others do so I didn’t know.” He explains her and suddenly her face turns serious. 

 

 

“What did you do to the man this morning? Did you make him have a bad dream?” she wonders and Charles can’t fully hide how he cringes at the mention of the man. 

 

 

“Something like that yes.” He tells her vaguely, feeling a chill go down his spine remembering the vicious hate and disgust he had felt cling to him when he entered his mind. 

 

 

“That’s enough questions for today.” Erik interrupts as Pietro opens his mouth to ask something else. And Charles feels relieved that he intervened. “Charles and I need to wrap up here, go wait for me in my office then we’ll head home.” The twins look disappointed for a moment until Wanda’s face lits up suddenly. 

 

 

“Papa, can Charles come eat with us tonight? She asks and Pietro’s eyes go round and he starts to jump up and down. “Say yes, please, please, please!” he adds. 

 

 

Erik exchanges a quick glance with his mother who shrugs. 

 

 

“Maybe Charles has other places to be or better things to do rather than come eat with us.” He says looking at Charles and suddenly Charles feels like a deer caught in the headlights, all eyes in the room riveted on him. 

 

 

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” He answers, raising his hands in the air in front of him, feeling very much like he would impose. 

 

 

“None of that now, you wouldn’t be imposing at all. It would be a pleasure to have you for dinner.” Eddie tells him with a smile, both twins nodding enthusiastically. Charles looks at Erik, not knowing what to answer but the man is no help, his face unreadable. He looks at the expectant expressions on the twins’ faces and his heart melts. 

 

 

How could he refuse them? 

 

 

“If you’re sure it’s not a problem for you then it’d be my pleasure.” He finally answers. Wanda and Pietro shout happily grabbing their hands and dancing around Charles, laughing and Charles can’t help but laugh with them at the sight. 

 

 

“I’m glad you’re this excited but we really need to wrap up here if you want to head home and eat with Charles, alright?” 

 

 

“Yes, Papa!!” they shout obediently each taking one of their grandmother’s hands in theirs and heading out of the studio while chattering excitedly. 

 

 

“Sorry for that.” Erik says looking at them leave the room, his eyes full of fondness. 

 

 

“It’s alright, your children are adorable.” 

 

 

“You say that because you don’t have them 24/7. Don’t get fooled by their angelic faces, they’re little demons in disguise.” Erik tells him making Charles chuckle. 

 

 

“Demons can be adorable too.” He says and they both shake their heads laughing. 

 

 

“Let’s wrap here before they destroy my office through the sheer force of their impatience.” He tells him grabbing his camera and making his tripod fly next to him while it folds itself seemingly on its own. 

 

 

Charles watches the way Erik uses his powers so effortlessly, walking a step behind him as they both head in the direction of the studio’s entrance. Charles gets in the small room to change back into his own clothes and Erik to the little desk on the side to store his material back into their place. 

 

 

Once they’re done, they go fetch the kids from Erik’s office and head Erik’s home. 

 

 

Charles is a ball of nerves by the time they arrive. All of his disappointment from earlier dulled by the worry of not belonging there and intruding into their family space, especially on Erik’s. The last thing he wants is for the man to start to loath him. Charles had only wanted to makes Erik’s children happy. 

 

 

A sudden thought hits him as they get out of Erik’s car. 

 

 

_What if Erik’s boyfriend was there?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: See you next time, my angel in Spanish Back  
> 2: [This is the picture that inspired this scene](http://images1.fanpop.com/images/photos/1900000/James-McAvoy-james-mcavoy-1999771-1439-1891.jpg) Back
> 
> Please don't kill me for Janos/Erik, nor for the little cliffhanger? You can throw stones though. XD

**Author's Note:**

> Don't hesitate to share your thoughts on [Tumblr](http://autheane.tumblr.com/) or on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Autheane) or even here! Feedback is always appreciated! :)


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